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LIBRARY 

UNlV^sn-y  OP 

California 
SAN  DIEGO 


C7       — 


MEMOIR 


OF 


NORMAN  MACLEOD,   D.D. 


MINISTER   OF    BARONY    PARISH,    GLASGOW  ;    ONE    OF    HER    MAJESTY  S   CHAPLAINS  ; 

DEAN    OF   THE   CHAPEL    ROYAL  ;    DEAN    OF   THE    MOST   ANCIENT    AND 

MOST   NOBLE   ORDER   OF   THE   THISTLE. 


BY  HIS  BROTHER   THE 

REV.    DONALD    MACLEOD,    B.A., 

ONE   OF   HER   MAJESTY'S    CHAPLAIN'S,    EDITOR,   OF    "OOOD    wt>BOS,"    ETC. 


NEW    YORK: 

R.    WORTHINGTON,    750    BROADWAY. 

1876. 


PREFACE. 


^ 


,  HEN  asked,  tAvo  years  ago,  to  compile  a  Memoir  of  my  brother,  I 

did  not  accept  the  task  without  considerable  hesitation.  Besides 
the  charge  of  a  city  parish,  heavy  responsibilities  of  another  nature  had 
devolved  upon  me,  so  that  it  seemed  impossible  to  undertake  additional 
labour.  I  felt  also  that,  in  some  respects,  a  near  relative  was  not  well 
qualified  to  fill  satisfactorily  the  office  of  biographer.  These  objections 
were,  however,  overruled  by  friends  on  whose  judgment  I  relied. 

If  affection  should  have  rendered  it  difficult  to  be  always  impartial,  I 
may  be  allowed,  on  the  other  hand,  to  derive  some  comfort  from  the  reflec- 
tion that  a  life-long  intercourse,  as  frank  and  confidential  as  could  exist 
between  two  brothers,  gave  me  opportunities  for  knowing  his  thoughts  and 
opinions,  which  few  others,  and  certainly  no  stranger,  could  have  posses:  e  1. 
Dr.  Macleod  was  a  man  whom  it  is  almost  impossible  to  portray.  His 
power  was  in  many  ways  inseparable  from  his  presence.  The  sympathy, 
the  •humour,  the  tenderness  depended  so  much  for  their  full  expression  on 
look,  voice,  and  manner,  that  all  who  knew  him  will  recognise  the  necessary 
inadequacy  of  verbal  description.  "  Quantum  mutatus  ab  illo"  must  more 
especially  be  the  verdict  upon  any  attempt  to  record  instances  of  his  wit  or 
pathos. 

I  must,  however,  claim  for  this  biography  the  merit  of  truthfulness.  In 
whatever  respects  it  may  fail,  it  cannot,  I  think,  be  charged  with  eonsci  »us 
concealment  or  exaggeration  of  fact  or  sentiment.  Faults  of  another  kind 
will,  I  trust,  be  forgiven  for  the  sake  of  the  great  reverence  and  love  I  L  e 
him. 

I  beg  gratefully  to  acknowledge  the  aid  rendered  by  many  friends.  The 
pages  of  the  Memoir  indicate  that  my  obligations  to  Principal  Shairp,  Dr. 
Watson,  and  my  brother-indaw,  Dr.  Clerk,  have  been  great;  but  there 
were  many  others  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  much  assistance,  and  to  whom 
I  tender  my  best  thanks.     Among  these  I  may  mention  the  Dean  of  West- 


PREFACE. 

minster,  Mr.  Service,  J.  A.  Campbell,  Esq.,  LL.D.,  Alex.  II.  Japp,  Esq., 
A.  B.  McGrigor,  Esq.,  and  Dr.  W.  C.  Smith.  I  need  scarcely  add  that  Mrs. 
Norman  Macleod,  by  her  constant  advice  and  her  careful  arrangement  of 
her  husband's  papers,  gave  me  invaluable  help. 

In  conclusion,  I  must  express  regret  that  the  appearance  of  this  book  has 
been  delayed  so  long.  It  can  be  said  in  apology,  that  no  available  time  has 
been  lost  during  the  two  years  I  have  been  engaged  in  writing  it. 

Now  that  it  is  completed,  no  one  can  be  more  sensible  than  I  am  of  its 
imperfections.  Iffvill,  however,  be  to  me  a  source  of  inexpressible  grati- 
tude, if,  in  spite  of  its  many  deficiencies,  it  should  convey  to  those  who  did 
not  know  Norman  Macleod,  some  sense,  however  inadequate,  of  the  depth 
of  his  goodness,  of  his  rich  humanity,  his  childlike  faita,  catholicity,  and 
devotion. 


1,  Woodlands  TeuuacEj  Glasgow,, 
January,  187G. 


contents: 


chap. 

I. PARENTAGE  . 

II. — BOYnOOD    .  ..... 

III.  —  EARLY  COLLEGE  DAYS 
IV. — WEIMAR   ...... 

V.— APRIL,  1835 — NOVEMBER,  183G       . 

vi. — 1S36 — 7 

VII.— EARLY    MINISTRY    IN    LOUDOUN 
VIII. — THE    DISRUPTION    CONTROVERSY     . 

IX. — DALKEITH,    DECEMBER,    1813— JUNE,    1845 

X. 1815. — NORTH    AMERICA 

XI.  —  EVANGELICAL     ALLIANCE,     AND     TOUR     IN      I 
AND    SILESIA  .... 

XII. — LAST    YUARS    AT    DALKEITH.  — 1848 — 1851 

xiii.— 1851— 1856 
xiv.— 1S57— 1859 
xv.  — 18G0— Gl 
xvi.— 18G2— G3 
xvii.— 18G4— 65 

XVIII. SABBATH    CONTROVERSY 

XIX. SOME    CHARACTERISTICS 

XX. INDIA 

xxi.— 18G8 

XXII. MODERATORSHIP    AND 

xxiii.— 1871— 72 

XXIV. — HIS    DEATH 

XXV. THE    FUNERAL     . 

APPENDIX         ,  .  . 


RUSSI 


PATRONAGE,    1869 — 7 


AN  TOLAND 


0 


PAOR 

17 

24 

31 

42 

53 

67 

83 

116 

139 

152 

164 
177 
212 
245 
256 
281 
305 
323 
338 
356 
379 
389 
412 
432 
447 
451 


CHAPTER    I. 

PARENTAGE. 

AT  the  end  of  last  century  there  were  two  families  residing  on 
opposite  shores  of  the  Sound  of  Mull,  in  Argyllshire,  their 
houses  fronting  one  another  across  the  blue  strait  which  winds  in  from 
the  Atlantic.  From  the  windows  of  the  Manse  of  Mr.  Macleod,  the 
minister  of  Morven,  on  the  mainland,  could  be  seen  the  dark  ruins  of 
the  old  castle  of  Aros,  in  the  island  of  Mull,  frowning  from  its  rocky 
eminence  over  the  Bay  of  Salen,  and  behind  the  castle  appeared  the 
house  of  Mr.  Maxwell,  the  chamberlain  of  the  Duke  of  Argyll,  and 
"  tacksman  "  *  of  Aros.  These  were  the  homes  where  the  father  and 
mother  of  Norman  Macleod  were  then  enjoying  their  happy  youth. 

This  memoir  must  begin  with  a  sketch  of  these  families,  and  of  the 
early  life  of  that  youthful  pair ;  for  on  few  men  had  early  influences  a 
more  permanent  hold  than  on  Norman  Macleod.  What  he  was  to  the 
last,  in  some  of  the  most  conspicuous  features  of  his  character,  could 
be  easily  traced  to  the  early  associations  which  clustered  round  Morven 
and  Mull.  The  Highlands  of  those  days  no  longer  exist,  but  he  in- 
haled in  his  childhood  the  aroma  of  an  olden  time,  and  learned  from 
both  lather  and  mother  so  much  of  its  healthy  and  kindly  spirit,  as  left 
about  his  life,  to  the  last  moment,  a  fragrance  of  the  romance  of  which 
it  was  fulL 

Except  to  those  immediately  concerned,  genealogies  are  uninteresting, 
and  those  of  Highland  families,  with  their  endless  ramifications,  emi- 
nently unprofitable.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  state  that  I  have  before 
me  a  family  "  tree," — such  as  used  to  be  so  common  in  the  Highlands — 
in  which  are  the  names  of  the  Camerons  of  Glendessary,  scions  of 
Lochiel ;  of  the  Campbells  of  Ensay  and  of  Saddell ;  of  the  MacNeils 
of  Crear ;  of  the  MacNeils  of  Drunidrissaig ;  and  of  the  Campbells  of 
Duntroon — names  once  well  known  in  their  own  country,  although 
now,  alas!  in  some  instances  only  found  there  on  moss-grown  tomb- 
stones. 

Not  far  from  Dunvegan  Castle,  in  Skye,  a  roofless  house, — its  garden 
weed-grown  and  abandoned  to  utter  solitude, — marks  the  place  where 

::"  There  are  few  now  remaining  01  the  class  called  "Gentlemen  Tacksmen,"  who 
ranked  between  laird  and  farmer,  and  once  formed  the  bone  and  sinew  of  the  Highlands. 


18  LIFE  OF  NOliMAN  MACLEOD. 

lived  Donald  Macleod,  the  tacksman  of  Swordale,  who  married  Anne 
Campbell,  a  sister  of  Campbell  of  Glensacldell.  He  was  the  great 
grand-father  of  Norman,  who  used  to  repeat  with  grateful  memory  the 
tradition  of  "Swordale,  having  been  a  good  man,  and  the  first  in  his 
neighbourhood  to  introduce  regular  family  worship."  The  eldest  son 
of  this  good  man,  and  the  grandfather  of  the  subject  of  this  memoir, 
was  called  Norman.  He  was  educated  for  the  Church,  and  in  the 
year  1774  was  ordained  minister  of  the  parish  of  Morven,  in  Argyll- 
shire, that  "  Highland  Parish "  so  affectionately  described  in  the 
"Beminiscences."  The  house  of  Piunary,  as  the  Manse  was  called,  has 
given  place  to  a  better  and  more  ornamental  dwelling.  Pleasant  woods 
now  cover  the  green  bank  beside  the  bright  burn  where  stood  the 
square  house  of  orthodox  Manse  architecture — a  porch  in  the  centre 
and  a  wing  at  each  end — and  where  grew  up  the  happiest  of  families 
in  the  most  loving  of  homes.     Norman  thus  describes  Morven : — 

"  A  long  ridge  of  hill,  rising  some  two  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  its 
brown  sides,  up  to  a  certain  height,  chequered  with  green  strips  and 
patches  of  cultivation,  brown  heather,  thatched  cottages,  with  white  walls ; 
here  and  there  a  mansion,  whose  chimneys  are  seen  above  the  trees 
which  shelter  it ; — these  are  the  chief  features  along  its  sea-board  of  many 
miles.  But  how  different  is  the  whole  scene  when  one  lands !  New 
beauties  reveal  themselves,  and  every  object  seems  to  change  its  size,  ap- 
pearance, and  relative  position.  A  rocky  wall  of  wondrous  beauty,  the 
rampart  of  the  old  upraised  beach  which  girdles  Scotland,  runs  along  the 
shore  ;  the  natural  wildwood  of  ash,  oak,  and  birch,  with  the  hazel-copse, 
clothes  the  lower  hills,  and  shelters  the  herds  of  wandering  cattle ;  lonely 
sequestered  bays  are  everywhere  scooped  out  into  beautiful  harbours  ; 
points  and  promontories  seem  to  grow  out  of  the  land  ;  and  huge  dykes  of 
whinstone  fashion  to  themselves  the  most  picturesque  outlines ;  clear 
streams  everywhere  hasten  on  to  the  sea ;  small  glens,  pe  *ect  gems  of 
beauty,  open  up  entrances  into  deep  dark  pools,  hemmed  in  by  iteep  banks, 
hanging  with  rowan-trees,  ivy,  honeysuckle,  and  ferns  ;  while  on  the  hill- 
sides scattered  cottages,  small  farms,  and  shepherds'  huts,  the  signs  of  cul- 
ture and  industry,  give  life  to  the  whole  scene." 

This  minister  of  Morven  was  in  many  ways  a  remarkable  man. 
Noble-looking  and  eloquent,  a  good  scholar,  and  true  pastor,  he  lived 
as  a  patriarch  among  his  people.  He  had  a  small  stipend,  and,  as  its 
usual  concomitant,  a  large  family.  Sixteen  children  were  born  in  the 
Manse,  and  a  number  of  families — a  shepherd,  a  boatman,  a  plough- 
man,— were  settled  on  the  glebe  with  others  who  had  come  there  in 
their  need,  and  were  not  turned  away.  Never  was  a  simpler  or  more 
loving  household.  The  minister  delighted  to  make  all  around  him 
happy.  His  piety  was  earnest,  healthy  and  genial.  If  the  boys  had 
their  classics  and  the  girls  their  needlework,  there  was  no  grudging  of 
their  enjoyments.  The  open  seas  and  hills,  boats  and  dogs,  shepherds 
and  fishermen,  the  green  height  of  Fingal's  Hill,  the  waterfall  roaring 
in  the  dark  gorge,  had  lessons  as  full  of  meaning  for  their  after-life  as 


PARENTAGE.  19 

• 
any  that  books  could  impart.  The  boys  were  trained  from  childhood 
to  be  manly,  and  many  an  hour  taken  from  study  was  devoted  to 
education  of  another  kind — hunting  otters  or  badgers  in  their  dens, 
with  terriers  whose  qualities  were  discussed  in  every  cottage  on  the 
glebe  ;  shooting  grouse,  and  stalking  the  wary  black-cock  (for  no  game 
laws  were  then  enforced  in  Morven);  fishing  through  the  summer 
nights  ;  or  sailing  out  in  the  "  Sound  "  with  old  Iiory,  the  boatman 
when  the  wind  was  high,  and  the  Roe  had  to  struggle,  close-hauled, 
against  the  cross-sea  and  angry  tide.  In  the  winter  evenings  old  and 
young  gathered  round  the  fireside,  where  songs  and  laughter  mingled 
with  graver  occupations,  and  not  unfrequently  the  minister  would 
tune  his  violin,  and,  striking  up  some  swinging  reel  or  blythe 
strathspey,  would  call  on  the  lads  to  lay  aside  their  books,  and  the 
girls  their  sewing,  and  set  them  to  dance  with  a  will  to  his  own 
hearty  music.  Family  worship,  generally  conducted  in  Gaelic,  for  the 
sake  of  such  servants  as  knew  little  English,  ended  the  day. 

Norman's  grandmother  was  one  of  the  tenderest  and  wisest  of  min- 
ister's wives.  The  unconscious  centre  of  the  every-day  life  of  the 
household,  her  husband  and  children  leaned  on  her  at  all  times,  but 
especially  in  times  of  sickness  or  sorrow;  for  if  there  were  days  of 
joy,  there  were  also  many  clays,  not  the  less  blessed,  of  great  sadness 
too,  and  of  mournful  partings,  when  one  young  form  after  another  had 
to  be  laid  in  the  old  churchyard. 

The  period  when  his  father*  was  a  boy  in  Morven  was  remarkable 
in  many  ways.  The  country  was  closely  inhabited  by  an  intensely 
Highland  people.  The  hills  and  retired  glens,  where  now  are  spec- 
tral gables  of  roofless  houses,  or  green  mounds  concealing  old  home- 
steads, watched  by  some  ancient  tree  standing  like  a  solitary  mourner 
by  the  dead — were  then  tenanted  by  a  happy  and  romantic  peasantry. 
It  is  impossible  now,  even  in  imagination,  to  re-people  the  High- 
lands with  those  who  then  gave  the  country  the  savour  of  a  kindly 
and  enthusiastic  clan-life — 

"The  flocks  of  the  stranger  the  long  glens  are  roamin', 
Where  a  thousand  bien  homesteads  smoked  bonny  at  gloamin  ; 
The  wee  crofts  run  wild  wi'  the  bracken  and  heather, 
And  the  gables  stand  ruinous,  bare  to  the  weather." 

There  were  many  men  then  alive  in  Morven  who  had  been  out  with 
"  bonnie  Prince  Charlie,"  and  the  chivalry  of  the  younger  generation 
was  kept  aglow  by  the  great  French  war  and  the  embodiment  of  the 
"Argyll  Fencibles."  Among  such  influences  as  these  Norman's  father 
grew  up  and  became  thoroughly  imbued  with  their  spirit.  Full  of 
geniality,  of  wit,  and  poetry — fired  with  a  passionate  love  of  his 
country — wielding  her  ancient  language  Avith  rare  freshness  and  elo- 
quence— he  carried  into  the  work  of  that  sacred  ministry  to  which 

*  The  late  Norman  Macleod,  D.D.,  Minister  of  St.  Columba,  Glasgow,  and  Dean 
of  the  Chapel  Royal. 


20  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

his  life  was  devoted  a  broad  and  healthy  human  sympathy,  and  to  his 
latest  day  seemed  to  breathe  the  air  imbibed  in  his  youth  on  the  hills 
of  Morven.* 

As  the  incidents  of  his  life  were  closely  intertwined  with  those  of 
his  son,  nothing  need  here  be  said  of  his  public  career.  He  was  a 
remarkably  handsome  man,  with  a  broad  forehead,  an  open  counte- 
nance full  of  benevolence,  and  hair  which,  from  an  early  age,  was 
snowy  white.  His  voice  was  rich,  and  of  winning  sweetness,  and 
when  addressing  a  public  audience,  whether  speaking  to  his  own  flock 
in  the  name  of  Christ,  or  pleading  with  strangers  on  behalf  of  his 
beloved  Highlands,  few  coidd  resist  the  persuasive  tenderness  of  his 
appeals.  lie  was  in  many  ways  the  prototype  of  Norman.  His  tact 
and  common  sense  were  as  remarkable  as  his  pathos  and  humour. 
He  left  the  discipline  of  the  children  almost  entirely  to  their  mother. 
She  was  their  wise  and  loving  instructor  at  home,  and  their  constant 
correspondent  in  later  life  ;  while  he  rejoiced  in  sharing  their  com- 
panionship, entering  into  their  fun,  and  obtaining  the  frankest  confi- 
dence of  affection.  He  seldom,  if  ever,  lectured  them  formally  on 
religious  subjects,  but  spread  around  him  a  cheerful,  kindly,  and  truly 
religious  atmosphere,  which  they  unconsciously  imbibed.  "  Were  I 
asked  what  there  was  in  my  father's  teaching  and  training  which  did 
us  all  so  much  good,"  Norman  wrote  at  the  time  of  his  father's  death, 
"  i  would  say,  both  in  regard  to  him  and  my  beloved  mother, — that  it 
was  love  and  truth.  They  were  both  so  real  and  human  ;  no  cranks, 
twists,  crotchets,  isms  or  systems  of  any  kind,  but  loving,  sympathizing 
—  giving  a  genuine  blowing-up  when  it  was  needed,  but  passing  by 
trifles,  failures,  infirmities,  without  making  a  fuss.  The  liberty  they 
gave  was  as  wise  as  the  restraints  they  imposed.  Their  home  was 
happy — intensely  happy  Christianity  was  a  thing  taken  for  granted, 
not  forced  with  scowl  and  frown.  I  never  heard  my  father  speak  of 
Calvinism,  Arminianism,  Presbyterianism  or  Episcopacy,  or  ex- 
aggerate doctrinal  differences  in  my  life.  1  had  to  study  all  these 
questions  after  I  left  home.  I  thank  God  for  his  free,  loving, 
sympathising  and  honest  heart.  He  might  have  made  me  a  slave  to 
any  '  ism.'     He  left  me  free  to  love  Christ  and  Christians." 

The  ancestor  of  Mr.  Maxwell,  Norman's  maternal  grandfather,  was 
a  refugee,  who,  in  the  time  of  the  "  troubles,"  under  Claverhouse,  had 
fled  to  Kintyre.  He  was,  according  to  tradition,  a  younger  son  of  the 
Maxwells  of  Newark,  and  once  lay  concealed  for  several  weeks  in  the 
woods  of  Saddell,  until,  being  pursued,  he  escaped  to  the  south  end  of 
the  peninsula ;  again  discovered,  and  hotly  chased,  he  rushed  into  a 
house  where  the  farmer  was  carding  wool.  Immediately  apprehending 
the  cause  of  this  sudden  intrusion,  the  man  quickly  gave  the  fugitive 
his  own  apron  and  the  "  cards,"  so  that  when  the  soldiers  looked  into 
the  kitchen,  they  passed  on  without  suspecting  the  industrious  youlh, 
who  sat  "combing  the  fleece"  by  the  peat  hearth.  This  young  Maxwell 

'  See  Appendix  A. 


PARENTAGE.  21 

settled  afterwards  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  his  descendants,  removing 
to  the  halt-lowland  town  of  Campbeltown,  made  good  marriages  and 
prospered  in  the  world.  Mr.  Maxwell,  of  Aros,  had  been  educated  as 
a  lawyer,  and  became  Sheriff  Substitute  of  his  native  district ;  but  re- 
ceiving the  appointment  of  Chamberlain  to  the  Duke  of  Argyll,  he 
settled  in  Mull,  to  take  charge  of  the  large  ducal  estates  in  that  island. 
He  was  an  excellent  scholar,  and  full  of  kindly  humour.  If  the 
grandfather  at  Morven  valued  Gaelic  poetry,  no  less  did  the  other 
take  delight  in  the  ancient  Border  ballads  of  the  Low  Country  and  in 
the  songs  of  Burns,  and  read  with  keen  interest  the  contemporary 
literature  of  an  age  which  culminated  in  Walter  Scott.  He  drew  a 
marked  distinction  between  "office  hours"  and  the  time  for  amusement. 
Strict  and  punctual  in  his  own  habits,  he  attended  carefully  to  the 
work  of  the  tutor,  and  the  studies  of  his  family ;  but,  when  lessons 
were  over,  he  entered  with  a  young  heart  into  their  enjoyments.  In 
summer  the  house  was  continually  filled  with  guests — travellers  on 
their  way  to  Staffa,  with  letters  of  introduction  from  the  South,  and 
remaining  sometimes  for  days  beneath  the  hospitable  roof.  Many  of 
these  were  persons  whose  names  are  famous,  such  as  Sheridan,  Peel, 
and  Sir  Walter  Scott.  Such  society  added  greatly  to  the  brightness 
of  the  household,  and  shed  a  beneficial  influence  over  the  after-life  of 
the  children. 

Agnes  Maxwell,  Norman's  mother,  was  brought  up  with  her  uncle 
and  aunt  MacNeil  at  Drumdrissaig,  on  the  western  coast  of  Knapdale, 
until  she  was  twelve  years  of  age.  She  there  passed  her  early  youth, 
surrounded  hy  old  but  wise  and  sympathetic  people ;  and,  being  left 
much  to  the  companionship  of  nature,  wandering  by  herself  along  the 
glorious  shore  which  looks  across  to  islands  washed  by  the  Atlantic 
surf,  her  mind,  naturally  receptive  of  poetic  impressions,  awoke  to  the 
sense  of  the  beautiful  in  outward  things.  She  not  only  grew  up  a 
deeply  affectionate,  girl,  but  she  also  learned  to  feel  and  think  for  her- 
self. Her  own  words  give  a  vivid  picture  of  the  healthy  training  of 
her  childhood : — 

*■'■  My  Aunt  Mary  was  a  woman  of  strong  sense  and  judgment,  very  ac- 
complished and  cheerful,  and  while  most  exacting  as  to  obedience  and  good 
conduct,  was  exceedingly  loving  to  me  while  I  was  with  her.  She  gave  me 
all  my  instruction,  religious  and  secular ;  and  used  in  the  evenings  to  take 
her  guitar  and  hum  over  to  me  old  Scotch  songs  and  ballads,  till  I  not  only 
picked  up  a  great  number,  but  acquired  a  taste  for  them  which  I  have  never 
lost.  From  the  windows  there  was  a  charming  view  of  the  hills  of  Jura 
and  of  the  sea,  and  I  still  recall  the  delight  with  which  I  used  to  watch  the 
splendid  sunsets  over  the  distant  point  of  Islay.  I  never  knew  what  it  was 
to  miss  a  companion  ;  for  it  is  extraordinary  what  a  variety  of  amusements 
and  manifold  resources  children  find  out  for  themselves.  I  fear  that  some 
of  the  fine  young  ladies  of  the  present  day,  attended  by  their  nursery-maids. 
would  have  thought  me  a  deini-savage,  had  they  seen  me  helping  the  dairy- 
maid to  bring  in  the  cows,  or  standing  in  a  burn  fishing  for  eels  under  the 


22  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

stones,  climbing  rocks,  or  running  a  madcap  race  against  the  wind.  Our 
next  neighbour  was  a  Captain  Maclachan,  who  had  a  fiock  of  goats,  and  of  all 
delightful  things  the  best  was  to  be  allowed  io  go  with  Jeanie,  the  goat- 
lassie,  to  call  them  from  the  hills,  and  see  them  milked." 

Her  picture  of  the  habits  of  the  people  at  that  time  is  curious  and 
interesting : — 

"  There  was  none  of  the  ceremony  and  formality  among  neighbours  that 
exist  now ;  visitors  came  without  any  previous  notice,  nor  did  their  arrival 
make  much  alteration  in  the  arrangements  of  the  house.  Neither  Christmas 
nor  New- Year's  Day  was  allowed  to  pass  without  due  observance.  Invita- 
tions were  issued  to  all  the  neighbouring  families ;  old  John  Shaw  the 
'  Fiddler'  was  summoned  from  Castle  Sweyn  to  assist  at  the  festivities;  and 
I  remember  the  amusement  I  had  at  seeing  my  old  uncle,  who  did  not  in 
the  least  care  for  dancing,  toiling  with  all  his  might  at  reels  and  country 
dances,  until  the  ball  was  ended  by  the  '  Country  Bumpkin.'  On  Twelfth- 
Day  a  great  '  shinty '  match  was  held  on  one  of  the  fields,  when  perhaps 
two  hundred  hearty  young  and  middle-aged  men  assembled  to  the  music  of 
the  bagpipes,  and  played  the  match  of  the  year  with  a  fury  which  only  the 
presence  of  the  '  laird '  prevented  sometimes  from  passing  into  more  serious 
combat.  The  '  shinty'  was  always  followed  by  a  servants'  ball,  when  it  was 
not  uncommon  for  the  country  lasses  to  dress  in  coloured  petticoats,  green 
being  the  favourite  hue,  and  in  a  nice  white  calico  '  bed-gown,'  confined  at 
the  waist.  Their  hair,  falling  over  their  shoulders,  was  held  back  by  a  long 
comb,  which  was  usually  the  gift  of  a  young  man  to  his  sweetheart.  I 
never  understood  that  there  was  intoxication  at  these  festivities,  for,  indeed, 
the  people  of  the  district  were  very  regular  in  their  habits,  so  that  I  cannot 
recollect  more  than  two  persons  noted  for  being  addicted  to  excess.  There 
was  only  one  woman  in  the  neighbourhood  who  took  tea,  and  the  fact  being 
considered  a  piece  of  disgraceful  extravagance,  was  whispered  about  with 
much  more  sense  of  shame  than  would  now  be  caused  by  the  drinking  of 
whiskey.  The  parish  clergyman  was  a  frail  old  man,  who  preached  very 
seldom,  and,  when  doing  so,  wore  a  white  cotton  night-cap.  I  remember 
his  once  putting  his  hand  on  my  head  and  blessing  me,  as  he  came  down 
from  the  pulpit.  There  was  not  a  seat  in  the  whole  church  except  the 
family  pews  of  the  heritors  and  minister.  Some  of  the  people  supported 
themselves  on  the  communion  table,  which  ran  from  end  to  end  of  the  build- 
ing, while  others  brought  in  a  stone  or  a  turf,  on  which  they  ensconced 
themselves.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  this  extraordinary  absence  of  religious 
instruction  and  of  pastoral  superintendence,  the  people  were  nioi-al  and 
sober. 

"  I  well  recollect  my  aunt  wreeping  bitterly  as  she  read  aloud  to  us  the 
account  of  the  execution  of  Louis  XVI.,  while  I  sat  on  a  stool  at  her  feet 
and  had  it  explained  to  me.  Then  came  the  raising  of  the  volunteers,  the 
playing  of  pipes  in  the  remotest  glen,  and  the  drilling  of  recruits  in  the 
perpetual  '  goose-step.'  My  uncle  was  made  a  captain,  and,  to  my  intense 
amusement,  I  managed  regularly  to  hide  myself  in  the  barn  to  watch  the 
old  gentleman  being  put  through  his  exercise  by  the  sergeant.  A  fit  of 
uncontrollable  laughter  at  last  betrayed  my  lurking-place." 

When  she  returned  to  Aros,  after  the  usual  "  finishing"  of  an  ISdin- 


PARENTAGE.  23 

burgh  school,  her  home  became  doubly  sweet  to  her  by  the  merriment 
of  a  household  of  brothers  and  sisters,  the  tenderness  of  a  mother  who 
loved  every  living  thing,  and,  above  all,  by  the  companionship  of  her 
father,  who  delighted  in  her  sweet  rendering  of  his  favourite  Scotch 
music,  and  shared  with  her  all  his  own  stores  of  old  romance.  All 
this  tended  to  form  that  character  which,  ripening  into  purest  Chris- 
tian life,  has  been  as  a  living  gospel  to  her  children  and  her  children's 
children. 

I  have  dwelt  thus  at  length  on  the  early  days  of  these  parents,  not 
merely  from  the  natural  desire  to  speak  of  those  we  love,  but  because 
almost  every  page  of  this  memoir,  down  to  its  latest,  will  bear  witness 
to  how  much  Norman  owed  to  that  father  and  mother. 


CHAPTER    II. 

BOYHOOD. 

NORMAN"  was  born  at  Campbeltown  on  June  3,  1812.  His  father 
had  been  ordained  four  years  previously  to  the  pastoral  charge 
of  that  large  parish,  and  had  been  married  to  Agnes  Maxwell  in  1811. 
Campbeltown  lies  at  the  head  of  a  loch  which  runs  for  two  miles 
into  the  long  promontory  of  Kintyre,  and  not  far  from  its  southern 
termination.  The  loch  forms  a  splendid  harbour.  The  high  island  of 
Davar,  thrown  out  like  a  sentinel  from  the  hills,  and  connected  with 
the  shore  on  one  side  by  a  natural  mole  of  gravel,  protects  it  from 
every  wind;  while,  from  its  position  near  the  stormy  Mull,  whose 
precipices  breast  the  full  swing  of  the  Atlantic,  it  affords  a  secure 
haven  to  ships  that  have  rounded  that  dreaded  headland.  The  external 
aspect  of  the  town  is  very  much  like  that  of  any  other  Scotch  seaport 
— a  central  cluster  of  streets,  with  one  or  two  plain  churches  lifting 
their  square  shoulders  above  the  other  houses ;  a  quay ;  a  lean  steeple ; 
the  chimneys  of  some  distilleries;  thinner  rows  of  whitewashed  houses 
stretching  round  the  "Lochend,"  and  breaking  up  into  detached  villas 
buried  in  woods  and  shrubberies.  The  bay  of  Campbeltown  is,  how- 
ever, both  picturesque  and  lively.  Cultured  fields  clothe  the  slopes  of 
hills,  whose  tops  are  purple  with  heather,  and  beyond  which  ranges  of 
higher  mountains  lift  their  rough  heads.  There  are  fine  glimpses,  too, 
of  coast  scenery,  especially  to  the  south,  where  the  headlands  of  Kil- 
kerran  fall  steeply  into  the  sea.  But  the  bay  forms  the  true  scene  of 
interest,  as  it  is  the  rendezvous  of  hundreds  of  fishing  smacks  and 
wherries.  There  is  continual  movement  on  its  waters — the  flapping 
and  filling  of  the  brown  sails,  the  shouts  of  the  men,  and  the  "  whirr" 
of  the  chain-cable  as  an  anchor  is  dropped,  keep  the  port  constantly 
astir.  Larger  vessels  are  also  perpetually  coming  and  going — storm- 
stayed  merchant  ships,  smaller  craft  engaged  in  coast  traffic,  graceful 
yachts,  and  Eevenue  cruisers.  Four  or  five  miles  off,  on  the  Western  side 
of  the  low  isthmus  which  crosses  Kintyre  from  the  head  of  Campbel- 
town loch,  lies  another  bay,  in  marked  contrast  to  this  sheltered  har- 
bour. There  the  long  crescent  of  Machrihanish,  girdled  by  sands  wind- 
tossed  into  fantastic  hillocks,  receives  the  full  weight  of  the  Atlantic. 
Woe  to  the  luckless  vessel  caught  within  those  relentless  jaws  !  Even 
in  calm  there  is  a  weird  suggestiveness  in  the  ceaseless  moaning  of 


BOYHOOD.  25 

that  surf,  like  the  breathing  of  a  wild  Least,  and  in  that  line  of  tawny- 
yellow  rimmed  by  creaming  foam,  and  broken  with  the  black  ribs  of 
some  old  wreck  sticking  up  here  and  there  from  the  shallows.  But 
during  storm,  earth,  sea,  and  sky  are  mingled  in  a  driving  cloud  of 
salt,  spin-drift,  and  sand,  and  the  prolonged  roar  of  the  surge  is  carried 
far  inland.  "When  the  noise  of  "the  bay"  is  heard  by  the  comfoi table 
burgesses,  booming  over  their  town  like  a  distant  cannonade,  they  are 
reminded  how  wild  the  night  is  far  out  on  the  ocean.  To  be  "roaring 
like  the  bay"  is  their  strongest  description  of  a  bawling  child  or  a 
shouting  scold. 

As  the  Highlands  gave  Norman  his  strong  Celtic  passion,  so  Camp- 
beltown inspired  him  with  sympathy  for  the  sea  and  sailors,  besides 
creating  a  world  of  associations  which  never  left  him.  It  was  a  cu- 
rious little  town,  and  had  a  wonderful  variety  of  character  in  its- 
society  and  customs.  No  fewer  than  seven  large  Revenue  cruisers- 
had  their  headquarters  at  Campbeltown,  and  were  commanded  by  naval 
officers  who,  in  the  good  old  days,  received  a  pay  which  would  startle 
modern  economists.  These  cutters  were  powerful  vessels,  generally 
manned  by  a  double  crew,  and  each  having  a  smaller  craft  acting  as. 
tender  Nor  were  they  without  occupation,  for  smuggling  was  then  a 
trade  made  not  a  little  profitable  by  the  high  duties  imposed  on  salt,, 
spirits,  and  tea.* 

The  officers  and  men  of  the  cutters  made  Campbeltown  their  home, 
and  villas,  generally  built  opposite  the  buoy  which  marked  the  anchor- 
age of  their  respective  cruisers,  were  occupied  by  the  families  of  the 
different  commanders.  The  element  thus  introduced  into  the  society 
of  the  town  had  many  important  effects.  It  not  only  gave  cheerful- 
ness to  its  tone,  but  added  a  certain  savour  of  the  sea  to  its  interests. 
The  merits  of  each  cutter  and  officer  were  matters  with  which  every 
man  and  woman — but  more  especially  every  schoolboy — was  familiar, 
and  how  old  Jack  Fullarton  had  "  carried  on  "  till  all  seemed  going  by 
the  board,  on  a  coast  bristling  with  sunken  rocks  ;  or  how  Captain 
Beatson  had  been  caught  off  the  Mull  in  the  great  January  gale,  and 
with  what  skill  he  had  weathered  the  wild  headland — were  questions- 
which  every  inhabitant,  old  and  young,  had  repeatedly  discussed. 

Campbeltown  was  the  headquarters  of  other  sorts  and  conditions 
both  of  men  and  women.  There  were  retired  half-pay  officers  of  both 
the  services ;  officers  of  his  Majesty's  Excise  appointed  to  watch  the 
distilleries,  among  whom  were  such  magnates  as  the  collector  and 
supervisor ;  there  was  the  old  sheriff  with  his  queue  and  top-boots  •> 
the  duke's  chamberlain,  and  the  usual  proportion  of  doctors,  writers, 

*Many  stories  are  told  of  these  smuggling  days.  Once  an  old  woman,  whose  "  habit 
and  repute  "  were  notorious,  was  being  tried  by  the  Sheriff.  When  the  charge  had  been 
fairly  proved,  and  it  fell  to  the  good  lawyer  to  pronounce  sentence,  an  unusual  admixture 
of  mercy  with  fidgetiness  seemed  to  possess  him,  for,  evading  the  manifest  conclusion, 
he  thus  addressed  the  prisoner — "  I  daresay,  my  poor  woman,  it's  not  very  often  you 
have  fallen  into  this  fault." — "  Deed  no,  sshirra,"  she  leadily  replied,  "I  haena  made  a- 
drap  since  yon  wee  keg  1  scut  yoursel." 


26  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

and  bankers.  There  were,  moieove ",  those  without  whom  all  the  teas, 
and  suppers,  and  society  of  the  town  would  have  been  flavourless — 
the  elderly  maiden  ladies,  who  found  that  their  "  annuities  "  could  not 
be  spent  in  a  cheerier  or  more  congenial  spot  than  this  kindly  seaport. 
These  ladies  were  aunts  or  cousins  to  half  the  lairds  in  Argyllshire, 
and  were  often  great  characters.  A  society  like  this,  thrown  together 
in  a  town  utterly  unconnected  with  the  rest  of  the  world,  except  by  a 
mail-gig,  which  had  to  travel  some  sixty  miles  before  reaching  any 
settlement  larger  than  a  "  clachan,"  and  by  a  sailing  packet,  whose 
weekly  departure  was  announced  by  the  bellman  in  the  following 
manner,  "  All  ye  who  may  desire  a  passage,  know  that  the  Caledonia 

cutter  will  sail ;  "  was  sure  to  be  self-supporting  in  all  the  neces- 

saries  of  life,  among  which  the  "half-pays"  and  maiden  ladies  included 
amusements.  So-called  tea-parties,  followed  by  comfortable  suppers, 
were  the  common  forms  of  entertainment ;  and  these  reunions  being 
enlivened  by  backgammon  and  whist  for  the  older  folks,  and  a  dance 
for  the  younger,  were  not  without  their  innocent  excitements.  Some- 
times there  was  also  such  a  supreme  event  as  a  county  or  militia  ball ; 
or  still  better,  when  some  sloop- of- war  ran  in  to  refit,  the  resources  of 
the  hospitable  town  were  cheerfully  expended  in  giving  a  grand  picnic 
to  the  officers,  followed  by  the  unfailing  dance  and  supper  in  the 
evening. 

The  ecclesiastical  relationships  of  the  place  were  not  less  primitive 
and  genial  than  the  social.     When  Norman's  father  went  there,  he  soon 
attracted  a  very  large  and  devoted  congregation.    He  was  decidedly 
"  evangelical,"  but  free  from  all  narrowness,  and  had  a  word  of  cheerful 
kindliness  for  all.     All  sects  and  parties  loved  him,  and  his  fellow 
townsmen  were  the  more  disposed  to  listen  to  his  earnest  appeals  in 
public  and  private,  when  they  knew  how  manly  and  simple  he  was  in 
daily  life.     Not  only  did  he  in  this  way  secure  the  attachment  of  his 
own  flock,  but,  when  on  one  occasion  he  was  asked  to  accept  another 
and  a  better  living,  the  dissenting  congregation  of  the  place  heartily 
joined  with  his  own  in  making  up  his  very  small  stipend  to  a  sum 
equal  to  what  had  been  offered  to  him.     The  Roman  Catholic  priest 
was  among  his  friends.     Few  weeks  ever  passed  without  old  Mr.  Cat- 
tanach  coming  to  take  tea  at  the  Manse,  and  in  all  his  little  difficulties 
he  looked  to  the  young  parish  minister  for  advice.     These  Highland 
priests  were  very  different  men  from  those  now  furnished  by  May- 
nooth.     They  were  usually  educated  in  France,  and  imbibing  Gallican 
rather  than  Ultramontane  ideas,  felt  themselves  to  be  Britons,  not 
aliens,   and  identified  themselves   with  the  interests  of  the  people 
around  them.     Nor  was  the  friendly  relationship  which  existed  in 
Campbeltown  an  exceptional  instance  of  good-feeling ;  for  whenever 
the  priest  of  the  district  went  to  that  part  of  the  parish  in  Morven 
which  was  near  the  Manse,  he  made  it  his  home,  and  I  am  not  aware 
that  any  evil  ever  accrued  to  religion  in  consequence. 

The  house  where  Norman  Macleod  was  born  was  in  the  Kirk  Street, 


BOYHOOD.  27 

but  the  family  afterwards  lived  in  the  old  Manse,  and  finally  in  South- 
park.     He  seems  from  childhood  to  have  had  many  of  the  character- 
istics which  distinguished  him  through  life — being  affectionate,  bright, 
humourous,  and  talkative.     His  mother,  and  that  aunt  who  was  the 
friend  of  his  earliest  as  well  as  of  his  latest  years,  remember  many  in- 
cidents illustrative  of  his  extreme  lovingness  and  ceaseless  merriment. 
Another,  of  his  own  age,  relates,  as  one  of  her  earliest  memories,  how 
she  used  to  sit  among  the  group  of  children  round  the  nursery  fire, 
listening  to  the  stories  and  talk  of  this  one  child  "  whose  tongue  never 
lay."     When  a  boy,  he  was  sent  to  the  Burgh  school,  where  all  the 
families  of  the  place,  high  and  low,  met  and  mingled ;  and  where,  if  he 
did  not  receive  that  thorough  classical  grounding — the  want  of  which 
he  used  always  to  lament,  justly  blaming  the  harsh  and  inefficient 
master  who  had  failed  to  impart  it — he  gained  an  insight  into  character 
which  served  not  only  to  give  him  sympathy  with  all  ranks  of  life,  but 
afforded  a  fund  of  amusing  memories  which  never  lost  their  freshness. 
Several  of  his  boyish  companions    remained  his   familiar  friends  in 
after-life,  and  not  a  few  of  them  are  portrayed  in  his  "  Old  Lieutenant." 
Among  the  numerous  souvenirs  he  used  to  keep,  and  which  were  found 
after  his  death  in  his  "  sanctum"  in  Glasgow,  were  little  books  and 
other  trifles  he  had  got  when  a  boy  from  these  early  associates.    Ships 
and  sailors  were  the  great  objects  of  his  interest,  and,  contrary  to  tho 
wishes  of  his  anxious  mother,  many  a  happy  hour  was  spent  on  board 
the  vessels  which  lay  at  the  pier — climbing  the  shrouds,  reaching  the 
cross-trees  without  passing  through  the  lubbers  hole,  or  in  making  him- 
self acquainted  with  every  stay,  halyard,  and  spar  from  truck  to  keel- 
son.    His  boy  companions  were  hardy  fellows,  fond  of  adventure,  and 
so  thoroughly  left  to  form  their  own  acquaintances  that  there  was  not 
a  character  in  the  place — fool  or  fiddler,  soldier  or  sailor — whose  pecu- 
liarities or  stories  they  had  not  learned.    Norman,  even  as  a  boy,  seems 
thoroughly  to  have  appreciated   this  many-sided  life.     The  maiden 
ladies  and  the  "  half-pays,"  the  picnics  and  supper  parties,  the  rough 
sports  of  the  schoolyard,  or  the  glorious  Saturday  expeditions  by  the 
shore  and  headlands,  were  keenly  enjoyed  by  him.    He  quickly  caught 
up  the  spirit  of  all  outward  things  in  nature  or  character,  and  his 
power  of  mimicry  and  sense  of  the  ludicrous  were  even  then  as  marked 
as  his  affectionateness.     Once,  when  he    was  unwell  and  about  six 
years  old,  it  became  necessary  to  apply  leeches.    These  he  named  after 
various  characters  in  the  town — the  sheriff,   the  provost,  &c. ;  and 
while  they  were  on  his  chest  he  kept  up  an  unceasing  dialogue  with 
them,  scolding  one  or  praising  the  other,  as  each  did  its  curative  work 
well   or  ill,   and  all  in  the  exact  voice  and  manner   of  the  various 
persons  they  were  meant  to  represent.    When  Mackay,  the  actor,  after- 
wards so  famous  for  his  personification  of  Bailie  NicolJarvie,  returned 
to  Campbeltown — where  he  had  once  been  a  drummer-boy — to  astonish 
its  inhabitants  by  the  performances  of  a  clever  little  company  in  an 
improvised  theatre,  it  was  like  the  opening  up  of  a  new  world  to  Nor- 


23  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

man.  An  attic  was  fitted  up,  and  an  audience  of  aunts  and  cousins 
invited  to  witness  how  well  lie  and  his  companions  could  "  do  Mac- 
kay's  company."  He  had  from  the  first  a  strong  tendency  to  throw  a 
romantic  colouring  into  common  life,  and  sucli  a  desire  to  have  sway 
over  others  that  he  was  never  so  much  himself  as  when  he  had  some 
one  to  influence,  and  with  whom  he  might  share  the  ceaseless  flow  of 
his  own  ideas  and  imaginations.  Schoolboy  expeditions  became  under 
him  fanciful  and  heroic  enterprises,  in  which  some  ideal  part  was 
assigned  by  him  to  each  of  his  companions.  A  sail  to  some  creek  a 
mile  away  became  a  voyage  of  discovery  or  a  chase  after  pirates.  A 
ramble  over  the  hills  took  the  shape  of  an  expedition  against  the 
French. 

The  great  event  of  his  boyhood  was  his  being  sent  to  Morven.  He 
had  been  frequently  there  as  a  young  child,  but  his  father,  anxious 
that  his  son  should  know  Gaelic,  and,  if  possible,  be  a  Highland 
minister,  determined  to  board  him  with  old  Mr.  Cameron,  the  parish 
schoolmaster  in  Morven,  and  so,  when  about  twelve  years  of  age,  he 
was  sent  first  to  the  Manse,  and  then  to  the  schoolmaster's  house. 
His  grandfather  had  died  a  few  months  before,  but  he  had  many 
memories  of  the  old  man.  derived  from  previous  visits,  and  the  impres- 
sions of  the  venerable  minister,  then  in  extreme  age,  were  never  lost. 
He  M7as,  for  example,  in  church  on  that  Communion  Sunday  when  his 
grandfather,  blind  with  age,  was  led  by  the  hand  up  to  the  communion- 
table by  his  servant  "  Kory,"  to  address  his  people  for  the  last  time. 
This  grandfather  had  been  minister  there  for  fifty  years,  and  the  faith- 
ful servant  who  now  took  his  hand  had  been  with  him  since  he  had  enter- 
ed the  Manse.  It  was  then  that  touching  episode  occurred  described  in 
the  "  Highland  Parish,"  when  the  old  man,  having  in  his  blindness 
turned  himself  the  wrong  way,  "  Hory,"  perceiving  the  mistake,  went 
back  and  gently  placed  him  with  his  face  to  the  congregati'.n.  This 
picture  of  the  aged  pastor,  with  snowy  hair  falling  on  his  shoulders, 
bidding  solemn  farewell  to  a  flock  that,  with  the  loyalty  of  the  High- 
land race,  regarded  him  as  a  father,  was  a  scene  which  deeply  touched 
the  imagination  of  the  child  in  the  Manse  seat.  One,  who  was  herself 
present,  remembers  another  occasion  when  his  grandfather,  taking  him 
on  his  knee,  presented  him  with  a  half-crown — an  enormous  sum  in 
the  eyes  of  the  child — and  then  gave  him  his  blessing.  Norman, 
dragging  himself  off,  rushed  away  to  the  window-curtain,  in  which  he 
tightly  rolled  himself ;  when  disentangled,  his  cheeks  were  suffused 
with  tears.  The  goodness  of  the  old  man  had  proved  too  much  for 
his  generous  nature. 

With  these  and  many  other  loving  recollections  he  now  returned,  as 
a  boy  of  twelve,  to  be  made  a  "  true  Highlander"  of,  as  his  lather  called 
it.  It  was  indeed  as  the  opening  of  a  new  life  when,  leaving  the  little 
county  town,  and  the  grammar-school,  and  the  lowland  playmates  in 
Campbeltown,  he  landed  on  the  rocky  shore  below  the  Manse  of 
Morven.     The  very  air  was  different.     The  puffs  of  peat-reek  from  the 


BOYHOOD.  20 

cottages  were  to  him  redolent  of  Highland  warmth  and  romantic 
childish  associations.  There  was  not  a  boatman  from  old  "Kory  "  down 
to  the  betarred  fisher-hoy,  not  a  shepherd,  or  herd,  or  cottar,  not  a 
dairymaid  or  henwife,  but  gave  him  a  welcome,  and  tried  to  make  his 
life  happier.  The  Manse,  full  of  kind  aunts  and  uncles,  seemed  to 
him  a  paradise  which  the  demon  of  selfishness  had  never  entered. 
And  then  there  was  the  wakening  sense  of  the  grand  in  scenery, 
nourished  almost  unconsciously  by  the  presence  of  those  silent  moun- 
tains, with  their  endless  ridges  of  brown  heather ;  or  by  the  dark  glen 
roaring  with  cataracts  that  fell  into  fairy  pools,  fringed  with  plumage 
of  ferns,  and  screened  by  netted  roof  of  hazel  and  oak;  or  by  many 
a.n  hour  spent  upon  the  shoreland,  with  its  infinite  variety  of  breaking 
surge  and  rocky  bays,  rich  in  seaweeds  and  darting  fish.  But,  above 
all,  there  was  the  elastic  joy  of  an  open-air  life,  with  the  excitement 
of  fishing  and  boating,  and  such  stirring  events  as  sheep-  shearing  or  a 
"harvest-home,"  with  the  fun  of  a  hearty  house,  whose  laughter  was 
kept  ever  alive  by  such  wits  as  Callum,  the  fool,  or  bare-footed 
Lachlan. 

His  life  in  the  dwelling  of  Samuel  Cameron,  the  worthy  school- 
master and  catechist  of  the  parish,  was  not  less  full  of  romance.  The 
house  was  not  a  large  one — a  thatched  cottage  with  a  but  and  a  ben, 
and  a  little  room  between,  formed  the  accommodation  ;  but  every 
evening,  except  when  the  boys  were  fishing  codling  from  the  rocks,  or 
playing  "  shinty "  in  the  autumn  twilight,  there  gathered  round 
the"  hearth,  heaped  high  with  glowing  peat,  a  happy  group,  who  with 
Gaelic  songs  and  stories,  and  tunes  played  on  the  sweet  "  trump  "  or 
Jew's  harp,  made  the  little  kitchen  bright  as  a  drawing  room;  for 
there  was  a  culture  in  the  very  peasantry  of  the  Highlands,  not  to  say 
in  the  house  of  such  a  schoolmaster  as  good  Mr.  Cameron,  such  as  few 
countries  could  boast  of.  There  was  an  innate  high  breeding,  and  a 
store  of  tradition  and  poetry,  of  song  and  anecdote,  which  gave  a 
peculiar  flavour  to  their  common  life ;  so  that  the  long  evenings  in 
this  snug  cottage,  when  the  spinning-wheel  was  humming,  the  women 
teazing  and  carding  wool,  the  boys  dressing  flies  or  shaping  boats,  were 
also  enlivened  by  wondrous  stories  of  old  times,  or  by  "  lilts"  full  of  a 
weird  and  plaintive  beauty,  like  the  wild  note  of  a  sea-bird,  or  by  a 
"  Port-a-Beal,"  or  a  "Walking  Song,"  to  the  tune  of  which  all  joined 
hands  as  they  sent  the  merry  chorus  round.  Norman  had  here  an  in- 
sight into  the  best  side  of  the  Highland  character,  and  into  many 
Highland  customs  now  long  passed  away.  Every  week  he  used  to  go 
to  the  Manse  from  Friday  till  Monday,  and  then  came  such  grand  ex- 
peditions as  a  walk  to  the  summit  of  Ben  Shian,  with  its  unrivalled 
view  of  mountain  and  loch  ;  or,  still  better,  when  whole  nights  were 
spent  fishiug  at  the  rocky  islands  in  the  Sound. 

"  Oh,  the  excitement  of  getting  among  a  great  play  of  fish,  which  made 
the  waler  foam  for  half-a-mile  round,  and  attracted  flocks  of  screaming 


30  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

birds,  Avbich  seemed  mad  with  gluttony,  and  while  six  or  seven  rods  had  all 
their  lines  tight,  and  their  ends  bent  to  cracking  with  the  sport.     And  then 
the  fun  and  frolic  when  we  landed  for  the  night  on  the  lee  of  the  island, 
and  the  "  sky-larking,"  as  sailors  call  it,  began  among  the  rocks,  pelting  one 
another  with  clods  or  wreck,  till,  wearied  out,  we  all  lay  down  to  sleep  in 
some  sheltered  nook,  and  all  was  silent  but  the  beating  waves,  the  eerie  cry 
of   sea-birds,  and  the  splash  of  some  sea-monster  in  pursuit  of  its  prey. 
What  glorious  reminiscences  have  I,  too,  of  those  scenes,  and  especially  of 
early  morn  as  watched  from  these  green  islands  !      It  seems  to  me  as  if  I 
had  never  beheld  a  true  sunrise  since ;  yet  how  many  have  I  witnessed ! 
I  left  the  sleeping  crews,  and  ascended  the  top  of  the  rock   immediately 
before  day-break,  and  what  a  sight  it  was  to  behold  the  golden  crowns 
which  the  sun  placed  on  the  brows  of  the  mountain  monarchs  who  first  did 
him  homage,  what  heavenly  dawnings  of  light  on  peak  and  "  scaur  "  con- 
trasted with  the  darkness  of  the  lower  valleys  !     What  gems  of  glory  in 
the  eastern  sky,  changing  the  cold  grey  clouds  of  early  morning  into  oars 
of  gold  and  radiant  gems  of  beauty  !  and  what  a  flood  of  light  suddenly 
burst    upon  the  dancing  waves  as  the  sun  rose  above  the  horizon,     and 
revealed  the  silent  sails  of  passing  ships  !  and  what  delight  to  hear  and  see 
the  first    break    of    the  fish  upon  the  waters  !       With   what  pleasure  I 
descended    and   gave  the   cheer  which  made    all  the  sleepers  awake  and 
scramble  to  the  boats,  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  resume  the  work  of  hauling  in 
our  dozens.      Then  home  with  a  will  for  breakfast,  each  striving  to  be  first 
on  the  sandy  shore."  * 

This  was  good  education  for  the  affections,  sympathies,  and  imagi- 
nation. Other  influences  of  a  very  different  nature  might  afterwards  be 
experienced,  but  the  foundation  of  his  character  was  laid  in  the  boy- 
hood spent  in  Campbeltown,  Mull,  and  Morven.  Its  associations  never 
left  him,  and  the  memory  of  those  hours,  whose  sunshine  of  love  had 
brightened  his  early  life,  made  him  in  no  small  measure  the  loving, 
genial  man  he  always  was.  What  he  had  found  so  full  of  good  for 
himself,  he  afterwards  tried  to  bestow  on  others  ;  and  not  only  in  his. 
dealing  with  his  own  children,  but  in  the  tone  of  his  teaching  and  in 
the  ministry  of  his  public  life,  can  easily  be  traced  the  power  of  his 
first  sympathies: — 


u 


Oh,  sunshine  of  youth,  let  it  shine  on  !  Let  love  flow  out  fresh  and 
full,  unchecked  by  any  rule  but  what  love  creates,  and  pour  itself  down 
without  stint  into  the  young  heart.  Make  the  days  of  boyhood  happy  ;  for 
other  days  of  labour  and  sorrow  must  come,  when  the  blessing  of  those  dear 
eyes  and  clasping  hands  and  sweet  caressings,  will,  next  to  the  love  of  God 
from  whom  they  flow,  save  the  man  from  losing  faith  in  the  human  heart, 
help  to  deliver  him  from  the  curse  of  selfishness,  and  be  an  Eden  in  the 
memory,  when  he  is  driven  forth  into  the  wilderness  of  life."* 

"MlndJandrarish." 


CHAPTER     III. 

EARLY   COLLEGE   DAYS. 

IN  the  year  1825  his  father  was  translated  from  Campbeltown  to 
the  parish  of  Campsie,  in  Stirlingshire,  where  he  remained  till 
1835.  The  change  was,  in  many  respects,  great  from  Campbeltown 
and  the  highlands  to  a  half-agricultural,  half-manufacturing  Lowland 
district,  in  which  the  extremes  of  political  feeling  between  stiffest 
Toryism  and  hottest  Radicalism  were  running  high.  The  parish  was 
large  and  thickly  peopled,  and  its  natural  features  were  in  a  manner 
symbolical  of  its  social  characteristics.  The  long  line  of  the  Fell,  its 
green  sides  dotted  with  old  thorns,  rises  into  mountain  solitude,  from  a 
valley  whose  wooded  haughs  are  blurred  with  the  smoke  of  manufac- 
turing villages.  The  contrast  is  sharply  presented.  Sheep-walks, 
lonely  as  the  Cheviots,  look  down  on  unsightly  mounds  of  chemical 
refuse,  and  on  clusters  of  smoking  chimneys;  and  streams  which  a 
mile  away  are  clear  as  morning,  are  dyed  black  as  ink  before  they  have 
escaped  from  print- work  and  bleaching-green.  The  Manse  was  on  the 
borderland  of  mountain  and  plain,  for  it  was  placed  at  the  opening  of 
Campsie  Glen,  famous  for  its  picturesque  series  of  thundering  water- 
falls and  rocky  pools.  Behind  the  Manse  lay  the  clachan  and  the  old 
parish  church,  now  in  ruin. 

This  was  a  busy  period  in  his  father's  life,  for,  besides  taking  the 
pastoral  charge  of  the  large  parish,  he  wrote,  during  the  ten  years  of 
his  ministry  in  Campsie,  the  greater  part  of  the  Gaelic  Dictionary, 
which  bears  his  name  along  with  that  of  Dr.  Dewar.  He  was  editor 
and  chief  contributor  to  a  monthly  Gaelic  magazine,  which  acquired 
unrivalled  popularity  in  the  Highlands;*  and  he  also  translated,  at 
the  request  of  the  Synod  of  Ulster,  a  metrical  version  of  the  Psalms 
into  Irish  Gaelic,  for  the  use  of  the  Irish  Presbyterian  Church.  Be- 
sides these  literary  labours,  he  took  the  chief  part  in  establishing  the 
education  scheme  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  the  special  sphere  of 
which  lay  in  the  Highlands.  While  these  public  labours  taxed  his 
energy,  his  increasing  family,  and  the  concomitant  res  angusta  domi, 
gave  no  little  anxiety  to  himself  and  his  partner  in  life.  The  Manse 
maintained  the  traditions  of  Highland  hospitality,  and  the  ingenuity 
with  which  guests  were  accommodated  was  equalled  only  by  the  skill 

•The  "TeacMaire  Gaelltaclid." 


32  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

with  which  a  very  limited  income  was  made  to  cover  the  expenses  of 
housekeeping,  and  the  many  requirements  of  a  family  of  eleven  chil- 
dren. Norman  was  sent  for  a  year  to  the  parish  school,  taught,  as 
many  such  schools  then  were,  by  a  licentiate  of  the  Church — an  ex- 
cellent scholar,  and  a  man  of  great  simplicity  and  culture.  There  is 
little  to  record  of  his  schooldays,  or  of  his  first  years  at  college.  His 
career  at  the  University  of  Glasgow,  where  he  took  his  curriculum  ot 
Arts,  was  not  distinguished  by  the  number  of  prizes  he  carried  off,  for  he 
gave  himself  rather  to  the  study  of  general  literature  and  of  science 
than  the  subjects  proper  to  the  classes  he  attended.  Logic,  admirably 
taught  by  Professor  Buchanan,  was  indeed  the  only  class  in  Arts  which 
kindled  his  enthusiasm,  and  it  was  also  the  only  one  in  which  he 
obtained  academical  honours.  He  was  frequently  dressed  sailor-fashion, 
and  loved  to  affect  the  sailor  in  his  speech  as  well  as  dress.  His  chosen 
companions  seem  to  have  been  lads  of  precocious  literary  power — 
some  of  them  considerably  older  than  himself — whose  attainments 
first  inspired  him  with  a  passion  for  books,  and  especially  for  poetry. 
His  favourite  authors  were  Shakespeare  and  Wordsworth,  the  first 
acquaintance  with  whose  works  was  as  the  discovery  of  a  new  world. 
He  was,  besides,  passionately  fond  of  natural  science,  and  spent  most 
of  his  spare  hours  in  the  museum,  studying  ornithology.  There  is 
little  in  his  journals  or  letters  to  indicate  the  impression  which  these 
college  years  made  on  him ;  but  one  of  the  favourite  subjects  of  con- 
versation in  his  later  days  was  the  curious  life  he  then  led;  the  strange 
characters  it  gave  him  for  acquaintance ;  the  conceits,  absurdities, 
enthusiasms  in  which  it  abounded  ,  the  social  gatherings  and  suppers, 
which  were  its  worst  dissipations ;  the  long,  speculative  talks,  lasting 
far  into  the  night,  in  which  its  glory  and  blessedness  culminated — and 
the  hard,  although  unsvstematic,  studies  to  which  it  was  the  introduc- 
tion. 

The  loss  of  accurate  scholarship,  which  the  desultoriness  of  this  kind 
of  training  entailed,  might  not  have  been  sufficiently  compensated  by 
other  advantages,  nevertheless,  contact  with  men,  insight  into  char- 
acter, the  culture  of  poetic  tastes,  of  original  thought,  and  of  an  eye 
for  nature,  were  perhaps  no  mean  substitutes  for  skill  in  Latin  verse 
and  acquaintance  with  the  Greek  particles.  He  was,  besides,  very 
far  from  being  idle.  He  read  much  and  thought  freshly,  and  even  at 
a  very  early  period  in  his  University  career  he  seems  to  have  contem- 
plated joining  a  fellow-student  in  the  publication  of  a  volume  of  tales 
and  poetry.  His  moral  life  was  at  the  same  time  pure,  and  his 
religious  convictions,  though  not  so  strong  as  they  afterwards  became, 
were  vet  such  as  prevented  him  from  yielding  to  the  many  temptations 
to  which  one  of  his  temperament  and  abounding,  as  he  did,  in  animal 
spirits,  was  greatly  exposed.  Next  to  the  grace  of  God,  his  affection 
lor  home  and  its  associations  kept  him  steady.  A  short  journey  from 
Glasgow  brought  him  out  on  many  a  Saturday  during  the  session  to 

"i 'iid  Sunday  at  Campsie,  and  the  loving  welcomes  he  there  receiveo 


BA11LY  COLLEGE  DAYS.  33 

.and  the  thousand  influences  of  the  Manse-life  served  to  keep  his  heart 
fresh  and  pure.  These  visits  sometimes  gave  no  little  concern  to  his 
father  and  mother,  for  coming,  as  he  did,  in  a  full  hurst  of  buoyant  ex- 
citement after  the  restraint  of  study,  the  noisy  fun  and  the  ceaseless 
mimicry  in  which  he  indulged,  disturbing  the  very  quiet  of  the  Sabbath, 
mnde  them  afraid  that  he  would  never  be  sedate  enough  for  being  a 
minister.  Both  father  and  mother;  who  could  scarcely  repress  their 
own  laughter  at  his  jokes,  wrote  to  him  very  gravely  on  the  dangerous 
tendencies  which  were  manifesting  themselves  in  him.  But  they 
might  as  well  have  asked  him  to  cease  to  be,  and,  had  they  told  the 
secret  truth,  they  would  scarcely  have  wished  him  different  from  what 
he  was*  And  so  he  passed  the  four  years  of  his  study  of  "  the  Arts," 
with  happy  summers  interspersed,  sometimes  in  the  Highlands,  some- 
times in  Campsie,  until,  in  1831,  he  went  to  Edinburgh  to  study 
theology. 

Dr.  Chalmers  was  then  professor,  and  Norman  listened  with  delight 
and  wonder  to  lectures  which  were  delivered  with  thrilling,  almost 
terrible,  earnestness.  The  Professor's  noble  enthusiasm  kindled  a 
responsive  glow  in  the  young  hearts  which  gathered  to  listen  to  him, 
and  the  kindly  interest  he  took  in  their  personal  welfare  inspired  them 
with  affection  as  well  as  admiration.  Dr.  Welsh,  a  man  of  kindred 
spirit  and  powerful  intellect,  then  taught  Church  History.  Such  in- 
fluences did  not  fail  to  waken  in  Norman  loftier  conceptions  of 
the  career  to  which  he  looked  forward.  As  might  have  been  expected, 
Chalmers  had  a  peculiar  power  over  him,  for  professor  and  student 
had  many  similar  natural  characteristics.  The  large-heartedness  of 
the  teacher,  his  missionary  zeal,  and  the  continual  play  of  human 

*  There  were  some  most  original  characters  then  in  Campsie,  who  afforded  much 
amusement  to  Norman  ;  but  his  great  friend  was  old  Bell,  the  author  of  "Bell's  Geo- 
graphy," and  editor  of  "  Eollin's  Ancient  History."  This  man  had  been  a  weaver,  but, 
impelled  by  a  powerful  intellect  and  literary  taste,  he  devoted  himself  to  study.  He 
lived  with  his  wife  in  a  mere  hut,  and  sat  surrounded  by  books,  a  Kilmarnock  night- 
cap on  his  head,  and  conversing  with  an  emphasis  and  an  originality,  not  unworthy  of 
Johnson,  on  every  subject — literary,  political,  theological.  Some  of  his  sayings  are 
worth  recording.  There  was  a  hawker  in  the  parish,  a  keen  controversialist,  ever  talking 
of  his  own  perfect  assurance  of  salvation,  bat  withal  veiy  greedy  and  worldly.  "Humph!" 
grunted  old  Bell,  when  asked  his  opinion  of  him  ;  "1  never  saw  a  man  so  sure  o'  goin' 
to  heaven,  and  sae  sweart  (unwilling)  to  gang  till't."  He  used  to  utter  aloud  in  church 
bis  dissent  to  any  doctrine  he  disliked,  or  sometimes  his  impatience  expressed  itself  by 
his  long  black  stick  being  twirled  gradually  up  through  his  fingers  till  it  reached  well 
over  his  head.  On  one  occasion,  a  young  preacher  having  chosen  as  his  text,  "  There 
shall  be  no  more  sea,"  proceeded  to  show  the  advantages  of  such  a  condition  of  things. 
Higher  and  higher  rose  Bell's  stick,  as  his  favourite  principles  of  geography  were  being 
nssailed  under  every  "head,"  till  at  last  it  came  down  with  a  dash  on  the  pavement, 
accompanied  by  a  loud  "  Bah  !  the  i'ule  '."  When  he  was  dying,  au  excellent  young 
man,  whose  religious  zeal  was  greater  than  his  ability,  volunteered  to  pray  with  him. 
Bell  grunted  assent;  but  as  the  prayer  assumed  throughout  that  the  oil  man  was  a 
reprobate,  lie  could  scarcely  restrain  himself  to  the  Amen,  before  he  burst  out,  "I'm 
(saying,  my  man,  nae  doubt  ye  mean  well ;  but  ye'd  better  gang  hame  and  learn  to  pray 
for  yoursel'  afore  ye  [nay  tor  other  folk."  When  Norman  remonstrated  with  him  after- 
wards lor  his  rudeness,  Bell  said,  "Maybe  ye're  richt ;  but,  sure  as  death,  Norman,  I 
canna  thole  [beaij  a  l'ule  1" 

3 


34  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

tenderness  pervaded  by  the  holy  light  of  divine  love,  roused  the 
sympathies  of  the  scholar.  He  heartily  loved  him.  And  Chalmers 
also  valued  the  character  of  the  student,  for  when  asked  by  a  wealthy 
English  proprietor  to  recommend  for  his  only  son  a  tutor  in  whose 
character  and  sense  he  might  have  thorough  reliance,  Chalmers  at 
once  named  Norman.  This  connection  became  of  great  importance 
to  him.  The  gentleman  alluded  to  was  the  late  Henry  Preston,  Esq., 
of  Moreby  Hall,  then  High  Sheriff  of  Yorkshire.  For  the  next  three 
years  Norman  acted  as  tutor  to  his  son  ;  and  whether  residing  at  Morby 
or  travelling  on  the  Continent,  the  simple-hearted  old  squire  treated 
him  with  the  utmost  confidence  and  affection.  In  the  autumn  of  1833  he 
went  for  a  few  weeks  to  Moreby,  but  returned  shortly  afterwards  with 
his  pupil  to  Edinburgh,  and  was  thus  able  to  attend  his  theological 
classes,  while  he  also  superintended  the  studies  of  young  Mr.  Preston. 
During  his  second  session  at  Edinburgh,  besides  the  usual  classes, 
he  attended  Professor  Jamieson's  lectures  on  geology,  and  studied 
drawing  and  music.  His  brother-in-law,  the  Pev.  A.  Clerk,  LL.D., 
who  was  then  his  fellow-student,  contributes  the  following  reminis- 
cence : — 

"It  was  in  the  social  circle  Norman  displayed  the  wondrous  versatility, origi- 
nality and  brilliancy  of  his  mind.  With  a  few  of  his  chosen  companions  round 
him  he  made  the  evening  instructive  and  delightful.  He  frequently,  by  an 
intuitive  glance,  revealed  more  of  the  heart  of  a  subject  than  others  with 
more  extensive  and  accurate  scholarship  could  attain  through  their  acquire- 
ments in  philosophy  or  history.  He  was  often  disposed  to  start  the  wildest 
paradoxes,  which  he  would  defend  by  the  most  plausible  analogies,  and  if 
forced  to  retreat  from  his  position,  he  would  do  so  under  a  shower  of 
ludicrous  retoi'ts  and  fanciful  images.  He  was  ever  ready  with  the  most 
apt  quotations  from  Shakespeare,  Wordsworth,  Coleridge,  and  Keats,  or  with 
some  telling  story  ;  or,  brimming  over  with  fun,  he  would  improvise  crambo 
rhymes,  sometimes  most  pointed,  always  ludicrous  ,  or,  bursting  into  song, 
throw  more  nature  into  its  expression  than  I  almost  ever  heard  from  any 
singer.  The  sparkling  effervescence  of  his  mind  often  astonished,  and  always 
charmed  and  stirred,  the  thoughts,  feelings,  and  enthusiasm  of  his  com- 
panions." 

It  was  at  this  time  he  experienced  the  first  great  sorrow  of  his  life. 
His  brother  James,  his  junior  by  three  years,  was  a  lad  of  fine  promise. 
Like  Norman  in  many  things,  he  was  his  opposite  in  others,  and  the 
unlikeness  as  well  as  similarity  of  their  tastes  served  only  to  draw 
them  nearer  to  each  other.  Clever,  pure-minded,  and  affectionate,  he 
was  also — what  Norman  never  was — orderly,  fond  of  practical  work, 
and  mechanics.  Norman  was  rollicking  in  his  fun,  James  quietly 
humorous.  He  was  the  delegated  manager  of  glebe  and  garden,  and 
of  so  sweet  and  winning  a  nature,  that  when  he  died  the  tokens  of 
sorrow  displayed  by  many  in  the  parish  were  a  surprise,  as  well  as  a 
consolation,  t'>  his  parents.     Hitherto  Norman  had  given  little  expres- 


EARLY  COLLEGE  DAYS.  35 

sion  to  the  religious  convictions  which  had  been  increasing  with  his 
growth  since  childhood.  Now,  however,  he  broke  silence.  In  the 
sick-room,  with  none  but  their  mother  present,  the  two  brothers  opened 
their  hearts  to  one  another;  and,  on  the  last  evening  they  were  ever 
to  spend  together,  the  elder  asked  if  he  might  pray  with  the  younger. 
This  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  prayed  aloud  in  the  presence  of 
others,  and  with  a  full  heart  he  poured  out  his  supplications  for  him- 
self and  his  dying  brother.  When  he  left  the  room,  James,  calling  his 
mother,  put  his  arms  round  her  neck,  and  said,  "I  am  so  thankful, 
mother.  Norman  will  be  a  good  man."  This  was  a  turning-point  in 
Norman's  life ;  not,  indeed,  such  a  crisis  as  is  usually  called  conver- 
sion; not  that  the  scene  in  the  sick-room  marked  his  first  religious 
decision ;  but  the  solemnity  of  the  circumstances,  the  frank  avowal  of 
his  faith,  and  the  tremendous  deepening  which  his  feelings  received  by 
the  death  which  occurred  a  few  days  afterwards,  formed  an  epoch  from 
which  he  ever  afterwards  dated  the  commencement  of  earnest  Christian 
life.  The  anniversary  of  his  brother's  death  was  always  kept  sacred 
by  him.  Other  critical  times  arrived,  other  turning-points  no  less  im- 
portant were  passed;  but,  as  in  many  other  instances,  this  first  death 
in  the  family,  with  the  impressions  it  conveyed  of  the  reality  of  eternity 
and  of  the  grandeur  of  the  life  in  Christ,  was  to  him  "the  beginning 
of  days." 

At  the  close  of  the  winter  session  he  returned,  with  Mr.  Preston,  to 
Moreby,  and  in  the  following  May  he  and  his  pupil  started  for  tne 
Continent. 


To  Lis  Mother,  written  by  him  when  a  mere  boy  : — 
,  "  Campsie  Manse,  Friday. 

"  I  know  how  very  difficult  it  is  to  ease  the  yearnings  of  a  mother's  heart 
when  far  from  her  beloved  offspring ;  yet  I  am  sure,  when  she  hears  that 
'all  are  •well,'  the  wan  and  wrinkled  face  of  anxiety  will  give  way  to  the 
bloom  of  youth  that  makes  you  look  at  all  times  so  beautiful.  The  garret 
windows  being  nailed,  none  of  the  children  have  fallen  over,  and  the  garden 
door  being  locked,  none  have  died  of  gooseberry  or  cherry  fevers. 

"  But  the  children  are  the  least  of  my  thoughts;  no,  no,  let  them  all  die 
if  the  housekeeping  succeeds;  this  is  the  ])oint.  The  Principal*  and  Mr. 
Gordon  came  here  to-night,  and  don't  go  off  till  Monday  !  I  and  Betty  are 
dying  of  lamb  fevers  with  the  very  thoughts  of  preparing  dinners  out  of 
nothing ;  these  two  nights  I  have  been  smothered  alive  by  salmon  and  legs  of 
roasted  lamb  crammed  down  my  throat  by  Jessy  and  Betty.  Oh,  my  dear 
mamma,  it  is  only  now  that  a  fond  mother  is  missed,  when  dangers  and 
misfortunes  assail  us.  If  you  but  saw  me  without  clothes  to  cover,  or  shoes 
to  put  on  my  feet,  all  worn  away  with  cooking.     I  am  quite  crusty. 

"  But  I  will  not  mar  your  enjoyments  or  hurt  your  feelings  by  relating 
more  of  this  melancholy  tale. 

"  Betty,  my  worthy  housekeeper,  has  told  me  to-day  that  she  has  forty- 

*Principal  Baird,  of  Edinburgh. 


36  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

five  young  birds  and  ducks.  I  think  a  sixth  is  to  be  added  in  the  laundry 
— if  it  be  so,  I  intend  to  get  a  share  ot  Donald  Achalene's*  bed  in  the  asy- 
lum." 

From  his  Mother,  when  he  was  a  student  in  Glasgow  : — 

"  While  younger,  and  under  the  immediate  eye  of  your  father  and  myself, 
I  could  watch  every  little  tendency  of  your  disposition,  and  endeavour  as 
much  as  I  could,  to  give  it  the  right  bias ;  but  now,  my  beloved  child,  you 
are  seldom  with  me,  you  are  exposed  to  many  temptations,  and  oh  !  if  you 
knew  the  many  anxious  thoughts  this  gives  rise  to  !  Not,  my  dear,  that  I 
fear  anything  wrong  in  principle,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  word;  but 
how  many  shades  are  there  between  what  is  glaringly  and  broadly  wiong  to 
the  generality  of  observers,  and  the  thousand  acts  and  thoughts  and  words  that 
must  be  watched  and  corrected  and  repented  of  and  abandoned,  in  order  to 
become  a  Christian  !  Avoid  whatever  you  have  found  hurtful,  be  it  ever  so 
-delightful  to  your  taste,  and  persevere  in  whatever  you  have  found  useful 
■.towards  promoting  piety  and  heavenly-mindedness.  You  must  not  look  on 
this  as  a  mother's  dry  lecture  to  her  son ;  no,  it  is  the  warm  affection  of  a 
heart  that  truly  loves  you  as  scarce  another  can  do,  and  which  prays  and 
watches  for  your  eternal  interest." 

.  From  his  Father  : — 

"Campsie,  February*?,,  1829. 

"  I  rejoice  to  see  your  companions,  if  you  would  conduct  yourself  with 

■  calmness  and  seriousness  on  the  Sabbath  day,  and  cease  your  buffoonery  of 

manner  in  tone  of  voice  and  distortions  of  countenance,  which  are  not  only 

-offensive,  but  grievous.    You  carry  this  nonsense  by  much  too  far,  and  I  beg 

■of  you,  my  dear  Norman,  to  check  it.     Imitation  and  acting  a  fool  is  a  poor 

4ield  to  shine  in;  it  may  procure  the  laugh  of  some,  but  cannot  fail  to  secure 

the  coin  tempt  of  others.    I  was  much  pleased  with  the  manner  of  the  Stewart 

boys — their  steady,  grave,  sedate  manner  formed  a  very  striking  contrast  to 

the  continual  mimicking  and  nonsense  at  which  you  aim.    I  implore  of  you, 

by  the  tenderness  of  a  father,  and  by  the  authority  of  one,  to  desist  from  it 

in  time,  and  to  despise  it,  and  to  assume  a  more  manly,  seJate  manner. 

"  I  hope  you  will  take  in  good  part,  as  becomes  you,  all  I  have  stated 
and  evince  to  me  that  you  do  so  when  I  have  the  happiness,  my  dear  boy, 
to  see  you.  I  rejoice  to  see  everybody  happy  ;  but  there  is  a  manner  that 
gains  on  a  person  if  indulged  in,  which  must  be  guaided  against,  and  none 
more  dangerous  than  that  buffoonery  which,  by  making  others  laugh,  causes 
us  to  think  ourselves  very  clever.  You,  even  already,  seldom  use  your 
own  voice  or  gestures  or  look — all  is  put  on  and  mimicked ;  this  must 
cease,  and  the  sooner  the  better.  After  this  I  shall  say  no  more  on  the 
subject.     I  leave  it  to  your  own  good  sense  to  correct  this. 

"Ever  your  dutiful  Father." 

To  his  Aunt  Jane :—  "February,  1831. 

"  I  read  your  letter  over  and  over,  and  chuckled  over  its  coruscations  of 

*A  Highland  character. 


EARLY  COLLEGE  DAYS.  37 

wit  and  brilliancy ;  swallowed,  ancf  finally  digested  all  the  advices.  In 
fact,  it  brought  me  back  to  Fiunary  once  more — to  Fiunaiy  with  all  its 
pleasures  and  its  many  enjoyments.  I  could,  with  a  little  effort  of  fancy, 
picture  myself  sitting  with  J.  in  the  garret,  giving  way  to  my  mimicking 
propensities  to  please  her,  in  whatever  character  she  chose,  or  one  of  the 
social  circle  round  a  happy  tea-table,  or  taking  an  intellectual  walk  along 
the  beach ;  and  no  sooner  is  this  imaginary  train  set  a-going  than  many  a 
happy  day  spent  among  the  rocks,  and  in  the  woods,  hills,  or  glens,  rise 
ghost-like  before  me,  till  my  too  pleasing  dream  is  broken  by  a  dire  reality 
— the  college  bell  summoning  poor  wretches  from  their  warm  beds  to  trudge 
through  snow  and  sleet  to  hear  a  crude  lecture  on  philosophy,  and  remind- 
ing me  that  I  have  so  much  to  do  that  I  cannot  expect  to  see  my  dream 
realised  for  another  year.  There  is  no  use  in  fighting  against  fate,  though  I 
long  for  the  day  that  I  shall  escape  from  prison,  and  '  visit  those  blessed 
solitudes  from  toils  and  towns  remote.'  " 

From,  his  Mother  : — 

"  C-AMrsiE,  November  27. 

"  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  observe  the  warm  and  genuine  feelings  and  con- 
fessions of  an  affectionate  disposition — freely  spoken.  Yes,  my  dear  Norman, 
long  may  I  find  you  frankly  owning  your  thoughts  and  feelings ;  this  is  the 
true  way  to  a  pai*ent's  heart,  and  the  true  and  only  comfortable  footing  for 
parent  and  child — the  only  way  in  which  a  parent  can  really  be  of  use  ;  and 
never  will  you  repent  trusting  yourself  to  me.  Wonderful  would  be  the 
fa  lit  that,  when  candidly  acknowledged,  I  could  not  excuse,  or  at  least  try 
to  help  you  to  remedy.  In  all  I  said  I  wished  to  cure  you  of  an  ugly  habit 
of  arguing  that  has  crept  in  on  you,  before  it  becomes  a  confirmed  habit, 
and  leads  you  (just  for  argument's  sake)  to  maintain  wrong  views ;  from 
first  beginning  to  argue  you  will  by-and-by  think  these  views  right." 

To  his  Aunt  Jane  : — 

"June,  1832. 

"  Where,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  did  you  light  on  that  lovely  poem, 
Jane  1  Talk  no  more  to  me  of  the  powers  of  music  to  lull  the  angry  feel- 
ings or  to  excite  the  more  gentle  ones.     Poetry,  poetry,  for  ever  1 

"  We  have  had  four  cases  of  cholera  here,  and  two  deaths.  My  father 
was  down  at  the  Torrance  every  day,  and  had  no  small  trouble  between 
keeping  down  rows,  coffining  the  bodies,  and  quelling  all  those  disgraceful 
and  riotous  feelings  that  have  been  too  much  the  attendants  of  this  sad 
complaint. 

"  All  the  children  are  half  ill  with  chicken-pox ;  Polly's  face  is  like  a 
rock  with  limpets.  Limpets  !  How  that  word  does  conjure  up  a  thousand 
associations ! — the  fishing-rock,  the  rising  tide  waving  the  tangle  to  and 
fro  at  my  feet !  Out  comes  a  fine  cod,  see  how  he  smells  the  bait !  I  am 
already  sure  of  him ;  I  know  the  bait  is  good,  and  the  hook  of  the  best 
Limerick.  He  sniffs  it,  and  away  he  slowly  sails,  gently  moving  his  tail 
from  side  to  side  as  he  goes  off.  But  he  repents,  and  turns  back  and  casts 
a  longing  look  at  the  large  bait ;  slowly  his  jaws  open,  and  in  the  most 
dignified  manner  close  on  the  meal,  and  now  the  line  strains,  the  rod  bends, 
I  see  something  white  turning  in  the  water,  my  eyes  fill  till  I  hear  '  Whack ' 


38  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

on  the  rock,  and  there  he  lies  as  reel  as — as  what's  the  man's  name,  at 
Savarie — John  Scallag's  father  ]  as  red  as  he.  Pardon  me,  Jane ;  this  night 
is  oppressively  hot,  it  is  perfect  summer.  They  are  turning  the  almost  dry 
hay  on  the  glebe — a  calm  sleeps  on  the  woods  and  hills,  and  this,  too, 
vividly  recalls  the  sound  of  Mull,  as  I  fancy  it  to  be  on  such  an  evening. 
I  am  at  this  moment  in  fancy  walking  up  the  road  to  Fiunary  with  a  gadd 
of  fish,  knowing  that  thanks  and  a  good  tea  await  me. 

"  I  confess  that  when  I  indulge  in  such  fancies,  I  involuntarily  wish  my- 
self away  from  my  books  to  feast  and  revel  in  the  loveliness  of  the 
Salachan  shore,  or  '  Clach  na  Criche  ;'  but,  as  I  told  you  before;  I  wish  to 
have  some  summer  to  look  back  to  as  one  usefully  employed." 

Letter  to  his  Brother  James.     (Inside  of  this  letter  was  found  placed  a  lock  of 
James'  hair) : — 

"  Moreby  Hall,  October,  1833: 

"I  went  on  Sabbath  to  church.  There  was  no  organ;  but  what  think 
you  1  a  flute,  violin,  and  bass  fiddle,  with  some  bad  singing.  However,  I 
liked  the  service  much.  Monday  was  a  great  clay  at  Yoi'k,  all  the 
town  and  country  were  there,  it  being  the  time  at  which,  once  every  three 
or  four  years,  Lord  Vernon,  the  Archbishop  of  York,  confirms  the  children 
of  this  part  of  the  diocese.  The  scene  was  beyond  all  description.  Fancy 
upwards  of  three  thousand  children  under  fifteen,  the  females  dressed  in 
white,  with  ladies  and  gentlemen,  all  assembled  in  that  glorious  minster — 
the  thousand  stained  glass  windows  throwing  a  dazzling  light  of  various 
hues  on  the  white  ..iass — the  great  organ  booming  like  thunder  through  the 
never-ending  arches  !  The  ceremony  is  intensely  simple ;  they  come  in 
forties  and  fifties,  and  surround  the  bishop,  who  repeats  the  vows  and  lays 
his  hand  successively  on  each  head.  I  could  not  help  comparing  this  with 
a  sacramental  occasion  in  the  Highlands,*  where  there  is  no  minster  but 
the  wide  heaven,  and  no  organ  but  the  roar  of  the  eternal  sea,  the  church 
with  its  lonely  churchyard  and  primitive  congregation,  and — think  of  my 
Scotch  pride  ! — I  thought  the  latter  scene  more  grand  and  more  imj>ressive. 
I  ascended  to-day  to  the  top  of  the  great  tower  in  the  minster,  two  hundred 
and  seventy  steps  !  But  such  a  view  !  I  gazed  from  instinct  toward  the 
North  for  a  while — not  that  I  expected  to  see  anything ;  but  there  was 
nothing  but  masses  of  wood." 


o 


Extracts  from  his  Journal  : — 

"  Edinburgh,  Tuesday,  1st  Nov.,  1833. — "Began  to  read  on  crystallography 
and  geology  (Lyell).  I  wish,  above  all  things,  to  know  mineralogy  and  ge- 
ology thoroughly.  I  must  attend  chemistry,  anatomy,  and  botany.  To 
acquire  accurate  knowledge  is  no  joke. 

"  Tuesday,  3rd  Dec. — There  are  certain  days  and  times  in  a  man's  ex- 
istence which  are  eras  in  his  little  history,  and  which  greatly  influence  his 
future  life.  This  day  has  been  to  me  one  of  much  pain  ;  and  oh  !  when 
the  grief  has  passed  away  (and  shall  it  ever  be  so  ?)  may  its  influence  still 
remain  !  I  heard  my  own  dear  brother  James  was  so  ill  that  he  cannot,  in 
all  human  probability,  recover.      How  strange  that  I  who,  when  in  health 

*  It  is  a  common  custom  in  the  Highlauds  to  celebrate  the  Communion  in  the  open 
air  during  summer. 


EARLY  COLLEGE  DAYS.  39 

and  strength,  and  with  everything  to  cheer,  and  little  to  depress  the  heart, 
thought  not  of  God,  the  great  Giver  of  all  good,  should  now,  when  my  be- 
loved brother  is  sinking  into  the  grave,  my  best  and  dearest  of  mothei's  sore 
at  heart,  for  her  child,  raise  my  voice,  and  I  hope  my  heart,  to  Him  who 
has  been  despised  and  rejected  by  me.  My  mother  has  been  my  best 
earthly  friend,  and  God  knows  the  heartfelt,  profound  veneration  I  have 
for  her  character.  And  now,  O  God  of  my  Fathers,  this  3rd  day  of  De- 
cember, solely  and  entirely  under  Thy  guidance,  I  commence  again  to  fight 
the  good  fight.  I  acknowledge  Thy  hand  in  making  my  dear  brother's  ill- 
ness the  means ;  through,  and  only  for  the  sake,  of  the  great  Redeemer 
Jesus  Christ  do  I  look  for  an  answer  to  my  most  earnest  prayer.     Amen. 

"  Thursday. — It  is  past  twelve.  The  wind  blows  loud,  and  the  rain  falls. 
I  am  alone  in  body,  but  my  mind  is  in  my  brother's  room,  where,  I  am 
sure,  my  clear  mother  is  now  watching  her  boy  with  a  heavy  heart.  May 
God  be  with  them  both  ! 

"  Saturday. — I  heard  the  waits  last  night  play  '  The  Last  Rose  of 
Summer '  beautifully.  It  went  to  my  heart ;  I  thought  of  my  poor  James. 
The  week  is  past,  the  most  memorable,  it  may  be,  in  my  existence. 

"Monday,  16  th  Dec. — I  saw  James,  Wednesday  morning.  Such  a  shadow  ! 
Still  the  same  firm  mind,  with  the  same  dependence  upon  his  Saviour.  I 
shall  never,  I  hope,  come  to  that  state  in  which  I  can  forget  all  the  kind- 
ness which  God  has  shown  me  for  the  last  six  days  !  I  had  many  earnest 
convei'sations  with  dear  James. 

"  Alas,  this  day  I  parted  from  one  I  loved  as  devotedly  as  a  brother  can 
be  loved  !  Thank  God  and  Christ,  we  shall  meet.  I  went  to  his  bedside  : 
'  I  am  going  away,  James,  my  boy ;  but  I  trust  to  see  you  for  a  day  during 
the  holidays.'  '  Norman,  dear,  if  I'm  spai'ed  I'll  see  you.  But  what  is 
this  to  end  in  V  I  hardly  knew  what  to  say.  '  I  know  your  firmness  of 
mind.  But,  James,  it  is  but  the  husk,  the  mere  shell.'  '  I  am  very  weak.' 
'  Yes,  Jamie ;  but  I  shall  be  weak,  and  all  weak.  I  part  without  sorrow, 
for  I  know  you  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's.'  'I  have,  Norman,  got 
clearer  views  since  we  met.     I  know  on  whom  I  can  lean.' 

"Friday  evening,  20th  Dec. — It  is  all  past.  My  dear  brother  is  now  with 
his  own  Saviour.  I  do  heartily  thank  God  for  His  kindness  to  him ;  for 
his  patience,  his  manliness,  his  love  to  his  Redeemer.  May  I  follow  his 
footsteps  !  May  I  join  with  James  in  the  universal  song  !  I  know  not, 
my  own  brother,  whether  you  now  see  me  or  not.  If  you  know  my  heart, 
you  will  know  my  love  for  you,  and  that  in  passing  through  this  pilgrimage, 
I  shall  never  forget  you  who  accompanied  me  so  far.  "  Thy  will  be  done 
on  earth  as  it  is  done  in  heaven." 

From  his  Mother  :—  «  February  7,  1834. 

"  Now,  write  me  everything  as  you  would  to  your  own  heart,  and  do  not 
hide  even  passing  uneasy  feelings,  for  fear  of  making  me  uneasy.  Believe 
me,  I  will  just  give  everything  its  own  value,  and  from  '  the  heart  to  the 
heart'  is  all,  you  know,  I  care  for." 

From,  his  Journal  : — 

"Friday. — Went  in  the  evening  with  Uncle  Neil  to  a  meeting  oi  tho 


40  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

Shakespeare  Club — Vandenhoff,  Ball,  Maclvay,  &c.  A  very  pleasant  even- 
ing; fine  singing;  two  scenes  I  won't  forget:  the  noble  feeling  of  Vanden- 
hoff  when  his  daughter's  health  was  drunk,  and  Ball's  acclamations  (!  !) 
interrupting  a  very  humbugging,  stupid  speech,  proposing  the  memory  of 
Lord  Byron.  There  is  blarney  all  the  world  over.  I  plainly  see  the  stage, 
as  it  now  is,  and  the  Church  are  at  complete  antipodes. 

"Sunday. — Not  two  months  dead — my  dearest  brother — and  yet  how 
changed  am  I  !  I  thank  God  with  my  whole  heart  and  soul  that  He  has 
not  forsaken  me.  I  seem  a  merry,  thoughtless  being.  But  I  spend  many 
a  thinking  and  pleasant  hour  in  that  sick-room.  That  pale  face,  all  intelli- 
gence and  love — the  black  hair — the  warm  and  gallant  heart  of  him  I  loved 
as  well  as  a  brother  can  be  loved — shall  never  be  forgotten." 

To  his  Mother  : — 

"  York,  March  9,  1834. 

"  In  an  old,  snug  garret,  in  the  city  of  York,  upon  Good  Friday,  with  the 
minster  clock  chiming  twelve  of  the  night,  do  I  sit  down  to  have  a  long 
ehat  with  you,  my  dearest  mother. 

"  I  intend  upon  Sabbath  to  take  the  sacrament  at  Moreby.  I  have  re- 
flected on  the  step,  and  while  I  see  no  objection,  I  can  see  every  reason  in 
showing  forth  the  Lord's  death  with  Christian  brethren  of  the  same  calling; 
as  to  me,  individually,  it  signifies  little  whether  I  take  it  kneeling  at  an 
altar,  or  sitting  at  a  table." 

To  his  Aunt  : — 

"  Sion  Hill,  April  12,  1834. 

"One  peep  of  Loch  Aline  or  of  Glen  Dhu  is  worth  all  in  Yorkshire. 
Their  living  is  certainly  splendid ;  but,  believe  me,  I  shall  never  eat  any  of 
their  ragouts,  or  drink  their  champagne,  with  the  same  relish  as  I  ate  the 
cake  and  drank  the  milk  beside  my  wee  bed  when  I  returned  from  fishing. 
If  only  the  white  can  had  not  been  broken  ! " 

To  his  Mother  :— 

"Near  Moreby,  April  15,  1834. 

"  The  house  is  full,  and  I  am  now  sleeping  at  the  farm,  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  the  house.  We  have  very  pleasant  people — Lady  "Vavasour  and 
her  son  and  daughter.  They  have  been  abroad  for  six  or  seven  years  in 
different  parts  of  the  Continent.  She  and  I  are  great  friends.  We  get 
letters  from  her  for  the  Court  of  Weimar,  and  she  has  been  drilling  me  how 
to  speak  to  her  'Imperial  Highness'  the  Grand  Duchess,  sister  to  the  late 
Emperor  of  Russia." 

From,  his  Journal  : — 

"22nd  April,  Monday. — Upon  Easter  Sunday  I  partook  of  the  sacrament 
in  York  minster,  and  although  the  formulas  ai*e  of  course  different  from 
ours,  yet,  'as  there  is  no  virtue  in  them,  or  in  them  that  administer  them,' 
I  found  God  was  present  with  me  to  bestow  much  comfort. 

"  During  the  next  week  all  was  gaiety.     A  party  or  ball  every  night. 


EARLY  COLLEGE  DAYS.  41 

The  next  week  we  spent  at  Sion  Hill  antl,  between  fishing,  riding,  seeing 
(.he  railroad,  and,  above  all,  Fountain  Abbey,  I  must  say  I  was  very  happy. 
"I  start  to-morrow  morning  for  London.  But  what  hangs  heavy  on  my 
mind  is  the  deep  sense  of  responsibility  I  am  under:  I  have  not  only  the 
superintendence  of  my  pupil,  but  I  am  about  to  be  placed  in  hard  trial  in  a 
thousand  circumstances  which  are  eminently  calculated  to  draw  my  mind  off 
from  God.  But  my  only  confidence  is  in  Him.  O  Thou  who  hast  brought 
me  to  this — Thou  who  didst  make  me  what  I  am  when  I  had  no  strength 
of  my  own — to  Thy  loving  and  merciful  hands  I  commend  myself,  wholly 
trusting  that  I  may,  through  the  aid  of  Thy  Holy  Spirit,  be  every  day  more 
sanctified  in  my  affections,  and  ever  constant  in  the  performance  of  my 
duty." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

WEIMAB. 

WEIMAR,  the  capital  of  the  little  Duchy  of  Saxe-Weimar,  was 
chosen  by  Norman  Macleod  and  young  Preston  as  head- 
quarters during  their  residence  on  the  Continent.  It  was  at  that  time 
a  desirable  place  for  those  who  wished  to  see  German  life  as  well  as 
to  study  German  language  and  literature.  Not  that  the  external 
features  of  the  town  are  possessed  of  interest,  for  the  Palace,  with  its 
surrounding  park,  and  the  Round  Tower,  containing  its  excellent  free 
library,  do  not  redeem  Weimar  from  an  aspect  of  quiet  dulness.  Yet 
it  was  anything  but  dull  in  those  days.  The  people  prided  themselves 
on  the  memory  of  their  great  citizens — Goethe,  then  recently  departed, 
Herder,  Schiller,  and  Wieland — and  kept  up  the  tradition  of  literary 
culture  derived  from  that  golden  age  of  their  history;  while  the  Grand 
Duke,  with  his  court,  sustained  its  reputation  for  hospitality  and  for 
gaiety  of  the  old-fashioned  order.  The  town  could  also  boast  of  a 
good  theatre,  an  excellent  opera,  and  music  ad  libitum  in  public 
gardens  and  cafes.  The  Grand  Duke  was  of  a  most  amiable  disposi- 
tion, and  the  Duchess,  sister  of  the  Russian  Emperor,  was  a  woman  of 
brilliancy  and  culture,  and  of  great  kindness  of  heart.  There  was  an 
early  dinner  at  the  Palace  every  Sunday,  followed  by  an  evening 
reception  for  all  foreigners  who  had  been  introduced ;  and  various 
balls  and  state  ceremonies,  scattered  at  short  intervals  throughout  the 
year,  averted  the  normal  stagnation  of  the  place,  and  made  it  a  cheer- 
ful and  pleasant  residence.  "  With  a  five-and-twenty  years'  experi- 
ence since  those  happy  days  of  which  I  write,"  says  Thackeray,  who 
had  lived  in  Weimar  a  year  or  two  previous  to  the  time  we  are  speak- 
ing of,  "  and  an  acquaintance  with  an  unusual  variety  of  human  kind, 
I  think  I  have  never  seen  a  society  more  simple,  charitable,  courteous, 
gentlemanlike,  than  that  of  the  dear  little  Saxon  city  where  the  good 
Schiller  and  the  great  Goethe  lived  and  lie  buried."* 

The  change  was  certainly  great  from  Dr.  Chalmers  and  the  Divinity 
Hall,  from  the  simple  habits  of  the  manse,  and  from  the  traditionary 
beliefs,  bigotries,  and  customs — some  true,  some  false — which  hedged 
the  religious  life  of  Scotland,  to  this  Weimar,  with  its  rampant  world- 
liness  and  rationalism.  It  was,  nevertheless,  an  excellent  school  for 
the  young  Scotchman,  who  at  every  turn  found  some  insular  pre- 
judice trampled  on,  or  the  strength  tried  of  some  abiding  principle. 

"Letter  to  G.  H.  Lewes  in  the  "Story  of  the  Life  of  Goethe." 


/ 


WEIMAR.  43 

Tlic  most  remarkable  man  at  Weimar,  and  the  great  friend  of  all 
English  travellers,  was  Dr.  Weissenborn.  lie  was  a  cultivated  scholar, 
and  combined  the  strangest  eccentricities  of  character  and  belief  with 
the  gentlest  and  most  unselfish  of  natures.  He  was  a  confirmed 
valetudinarian.  "My  side"  had  become  a  distinct  personality  to  him, 
whose  demands  were  discussed  as  if  it  were  an  exacting  member  of 
his  household  rather  than  a  part  of  his  body ;  yet  Weimar  would  have 
lost  half  its  charm  but  for  old  Weissenborn,  with  his  weak  side,  his  clog 
Waltina,  his  chameleon  (fruitful  source  of  many  a  theory  on  the 
"  Kosmos  ").  his  collection  of  eggs,  and  innumerable  oddities  of  mind 
and  body.  All  the  English  who  went  to  Weimar  loved  "the  Doctor," 
and  no  father  or  brother  could  have  taken  a  greater  interest  than  he 
did  in  promoting  their  happiness  and  in  directing  their  studies. 
"  Thou  wert  my  instructor,  good  old  Weissenborn,"  writes  Thackeray 
lovingly.  "  And  these  eyes  beheld  the  great  master  himself  in  dear 
little  Weimar  town."* 

Norman  entered  on  this  new  life  with  great  zest.  It  doubtless  had 
its  dangers.  But  although  he  often  swung  freely  with  the  current,  yet 
his  grasp  of  central  truth,  and  his  own  hearty  Christian  convictions,  so 
held  him  at  anchor  that,  through  the  grace  of  God,  he  rode  safely 
through  many  temptations,  and  was  able  to  exercise  an  influence  for 
good  over  the  group  of  young  men  from  England  or  Scotland  who  were 
residing  that  year  at  Weimar.  The  very  fact  that  he  entered  with  them 
into  all  their  innocent  enjoyments  and  gaieties  gave  him  greater  power 
to  restrain  them  in  other  things.  He  may,  indeed,  have  often  given  too 
great  a  rein  to  that  "liberty"  which  was  so  congenial  to  his  natural 
temperament,  but  it  is  marvellous  that  the  reaction  was  not  greater  in 
one  who,  brought  up  in  a  strict  school,  was  suddenly  thrown  into  the 
vortex  of  fashionable  life.  He  was  passionately  fond  of  music,  sang 
well  to  the  guitar,  sketched  cleverly,  was  as  keen  a  waltzer  as  any 
attache  in  Weimar,  and  threw  himself  with  a  vivid  sense  of  enjoyment 
into  the  gaieties  of  the  little  capital.  His  father  and  mother  frequently 
warned  him  against  going  too  far  in  all  this ;  and  he  often  reproached 
himself  for  what  he  deemed  his  want  of  self-restraint  when  in  society. 
Nevertheless,  the  experience  he  gained  in  Weimar  became  of  immense 
practical  importance  to  him.  His  own  healthy  nature  repelled  the  evil, 
while  he  gained  an  insight  into  the  ways  of  the  world.  In  what  was 
new  to  him  he  saw  much  that  was  good;  much  that  in  his  own  country 
was  called  unlawful,  whose  right  use  he  felt  ought  to  be  vindicated  ; 
and  he  also  perceived  the  essential  wickedness  of  much  more — in  the 
"utter  rottenness"  (as  he  used  to  call  it)  "of  what  the  world  terms  life." 

Weimar  also  brought  him  another  influence  which  told  with  indirect, 
rather  than  direct,  power  on  his  character.  It  was  his  late,  in  common 
with  many  others,  to  come  under  the  fascination  of  the  great  court 
beauty,  the  Baroness  Melanie  von  S .     Thackeray  used  often  to 

*  •'Roundabout  Papers,  DeFinibus." 


44  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

describe  her  extraordinary  charms — "  the  kind  old  Hof-Marschall  von 

S (who  had  two  of  the  loveliest  daughters   eyes  ever  looked 

upon)."*  And  she  could  have  been  no  ordinary  woman  who  had  the 
genius  thus  to  evoke,  as  by  a  spell,  a  poetic  and  ideal  life  in  the  young 
minds  she  attracted  to  her.  With  Norman  she  became  a  kind  of  ro- 
mance. She  touched  his  imagination  rather  than  his  affections,  and 
awakened  a  world  of  aesthetic  feelings  which  long  afterwards  breathed 
like  a  subtile  essence,  through  the  common  atmosphere  of  his  life. 
When  working  against  vice  and  poverty  in  his  parish  in  Ayrshire,  dur- 
ing the  heats  of  the  Disruption  controversy,  amid  prosaic  cares  as  well 
as  in  the  enjoyment  of  poetry  and  art  and  song,  Melanie  haunted  him 
as  the  sweet  embodiment  of  happy  memories,  the  spirit  of  gracefulness 
and  charm  and  culture;  and  thus,  for  many  a  day,  the  halo  of  the  old 
associations,  in  which  the  real  Melanie  was  etherealised,  served  to  cast 
a  delicate  light  of  fancy  over  the  rongh  details  of  practical  daily 
work. 

When  he  and  Preston  returned  to  Moreby,  Norman  had  become  in 
many  ways  a  new  man.  His  views  were  widened,  his  opinions 
matured,  his  human  sympathies  vastly  enriched,  and  while  all  that 
was  of  the  essence  of  his  early  faith  had  become  doubly  precious,  he 
had  gained  increased  catholicity  of  sentiment,  along  with  knowledge 
of  the  world. 


To  A.  Clerk  :— 

"  Weimar,  May  30,  1834. 

"  *  *  *  *  Let  us  pass  Frankfort ;  halfway  to  this  we  visited 
Eisenach.  The  approach  to  the  town  is  through  the  loveliest  scenery  of 
wooded  and  broken  knolls.  On  the  top  of  the  highest  stands  Wartzburg, 
where  Luther  was  held  in  friendly  captivity  to  brood  over  the  fate  of  his 
country  amidst  the  solitude  of  a  German  forest.  Would  to  God  there  was 
a  second  Luther  !  Germany  is  in  a  most  extraordinary  state.  The  clergy- 
man here  (Ruhr)  is  head  of  the  rationalist  school;  of  religion  there  is  none, 
and  most  of  the  clergy  merely  follow  it  as  a  power  in  the  hands  of  the 
State.  I  am  credibly  informed  by  competent  judges  that  ninety-nine  out 
,of  a  hundred  are  infidels.  If  you  but  heard  a  rationalist  talk  on  religion  ! 
I  had  a  talk  with  one  yesterday.  He  believed  in  Hume  on  miracles,  and, 
moreover,  said  that  he  thought  it  of  no  consequence  for  our  faith  in  Scrip- 
ture whether  miracles  were  true  or  not;  in  short,  he  believed  in  the 
Scriptures,  and  yet  said  they  were  'pious  frauds.'     Devils  and  all  are  to  be 

saved  at  last  (tell this  for  his  comfort).     If  you  wish  to  adore  your 

own  Church,  country,  and  profession,  come  abroad.  Here  once  lived  and 
died  Goethe,  Schiller,  Herder,  and  Wieland.  The  souls  of  the  men  still 
cast  a  halo  on  the  town,  brighter  than  most  in  Germany.  There  are  many 
clever  fellows  here ;  a  splendid  library,  open  free  to  all ;  a  glorious  park, 
likewise  open,  in  which  the  nightingale  never  ceases  to  sing.  I  am  in  a 
very  nice  family.  The  lady  is  a  countess  by  right,  and  yet  they  have 
boarders.     Such  is  German  society  !     They  often  dine  at  the  Grand  Duke's. 

'Letter  to  G.  H.  Lewes  in  the  "Story  of  i/he  Life  of  Goethe." 


WEIMAR  45 

The  music  glorious.  Every  third  night  an  opera,  with  best  boxes  for  two 
shillings.  The  Grand  Duke  supports  it,  and  so  it  is  good.  The  great 
amusement  of  the  people  on  Sunday  is  going  to  gardens  to  take  coffee,  wine, 
<fec,  or  to  play  at  nine-pins;  a  band  of  music,  of  course;  smoking  every- 
where. The  postilion  who  drives  the  Eilwagen  smokes  a  pipe  the  whole 
way.     A  man  woidd  commit  suicide  were  you  to  deprive  him  of  his  pipe. 

"  The  country  is  a  mighty  field  without  a  hedge.  A  steeple  here  and 
there  surrounded  by  houses ;  no  farm-steadings,  no  gentlemen's  houses  ; 
corn,  rye,  and  grass ;  ugly  bullocks,  ugly  cows  drawing  ugly  ploughs,  fol- 
lowed by  ugly  women  or  men ;  low,  undulating  pine  hills. 

"  It  is  odd  the  inclination  I  have  here  to  speak  Gaelic.  Often  have  I 
come  out  with  words.  A  German  asked  me  something,  when  I  answered 
plump  outright,  'Diabhaull  fhios  again  !'  As  another  instance  of  German 
reason,  I  may  mention  that  my  friend,  Dr.  Weissenborn,  told  me  gravely 
to-day  that  he  believed  matter  in  motion  to  be  the  same  as  spirit;  and  that 
as  animals  arose  from  our  bodies,  so  we  may  be  mere  productions  of  the 
plants." 

To  his  Mother  : — 

"  Weimar,  June  4,  1834. 

"  Yesterday  happened  to  be  my  birthday — twenty-two  is  not  to  be  laughed 
at;  it  is  a  good,  whacking  age — 'a  stoot  lad  at  that  age,  faith!  and  proud 
may  you  be  for  having  such  a  lad  this  day.'  This  evening  last  year  I  was 
at  home  from  Edinburgh.  The  winter  months  are  past ;  their  effects  are 
felt — have  a  substantial  existence,  and  must  be  felt  for  ever.  A  knowledge 
of  the  world  either  spoils  a  man  or  makes  him  more  perfect.  I  feel  it  has 
done  me  good  in  a  thousand  ways.  I  have  been  made  to  look  upon  man  as 
man.  I  see  mankind  like  so  many  different  birds  in  the  same  atmosphere, 
alike  governed  and  elevated  by  the  same  feathers.  This  a  clergyman  should 
know ;  to  feel  it  is  invaluable. 

"...  How  are  they  all  at  Mull  and  Morvenl  Many  a  time  1  shut 
my  eyes,  and,  while  whistling  a  Highland  tune,  carry  myself  back  to  fishing 
at  the  rock  or  walking  about  the  old  castle  at  Aros  :  at  other  times  I  am 
in  the  glen  or  on  the  hill.  Although  it  is  really  nonsense  (as  I  believe  there 
ai'e  few  periods  in  our  lives  really  happier  than  others),  I  often  think  those 
days  must  have  been  paradise — I  was  so  perfectly  unshackled ;  while,  at  the 
same  time,  I  remember  well  my  many  wishes  to  go  abroad.  Every  person 
has  his  ideal.     That  was  mine  ;  a  plain  Manse  is  my  only  one  now." 

From  his  Mother  ; — 

"Campsie,  June  30. 

'*  You  ought  not-  even  to  witness  the  profanation  of  the  Sabbath — wher- 
ever you  are.  In  the  first  place,  you  are  bound  to  set  an  example  to  your 
pupil ;  in  the  next  place,  it  is  the  Christian  Sabbath,  wherever  you  are,  and 
to  be  kept  sacred  in  thought  and  deed  before  the  Lord." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Scotland  is,  in  sooth,  in  a  strange  state.  But  in  all  this  '  noise  and  up- 
roar/ there  are  signs  of  activity  and  life — that  men  at  least  wish  good,  and 


46  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

this  is  something.  I  must  say  I  have  much  confidence  in  the  sound  sense 
and  morality  of  the  people  of  Scotland.  It  is  absurd  to  measure  them  by 
the  turbulent  effervescence  of  ranting  radical  town  fools,  who  make  theories 
and  speak  them,  but  do  no  more.  There  is  a  douceness  (to  use  a  phrase  of 
our  own)  about  the  mass  and  staple  bulk  of  farmers  and  gentlemen  that  will 
not  permit  violent  and  bad  changes. 

"  But  how  different  is  the  case  in  Germany  !  There  is  an  apathy,  a  seem- 
ing total  indifference,  as  to  what  religion  is  established  by  law.  The  men  of 
the  upper  classes  are  speculators,  and  take  from  Christianity  as  it  suits  their 
separate  tastes.  They  seem  to  have  no  idea  of  obligation.  True,  the  lower 
classes  are  not  so  drunken  as  ours,  just  because  they  have  nothing  to  drink, 
and  their  tastes  lie  in  other  directions.  Not  one  of  them,  I  believe,  is 
regulated  by  its  moral  tendency.  In  other  vices  they  are  worse — much 
worse.     May  Germany' have  another  Luther  ! 

"  13th  July,  Tuesday  night. — I  have  to-day  received  a  letter  from  my 
mother  announcing  that  my  old  and  dear  friend  Duncan  Campbell  is  dead !  I 
i  everence  his  memory.  He  was  a  friend  worthy  of  the  warmest  attachment 
and  deepest  regard.  We  were  at  school  together.  For  many  years,  I  may 
say,  I  lost  sight  of  him,  until  in  1829,  in  the  moral  philosophy  class  in 
Glasgow,  we  met  as  students.  From  that  hour  an  intimate  and  close  friend- 
ship commenced,  shared  with  a  third,  James  Stewart.  We  were  called  '  the 
three  inseparables,'  or  'the  trio.'  That  winter  we  were  literally  every  day 
six  or  seven  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four  in  one  another's  company.  A  mote 
simple,  amiable,  and  deeply  delicate  heart  there  never  lived  :  generous,  un- 
selfish, and  noble ;  one  of  the  few  that  retain  in  college  life  the  purity 
which  nature  stamps.  He  is  gone  before  me.  His  memory  is  associated 
with  happy  days.  I  am  far  from  his  resting-place,  but  I  need  never  seek  it, 
as  I  may  exclaim  in  the  beautiful  words  of  the  translated  Persian  poet — 

"Dicebant  mihi  sodales  si  sepulchrura  amici  visitarem, 
Curas  meas  ali'quantulum  fore  levatas 
Dixi  autem — an  ideo  aliud  prneter  hoc  pectus  habet  sepulchrum."* 

"July  17th. — To-day  I  walked  with  the  doctor  to  the  Gottes-acker  (the 
churchyard).  I  hate  the  style  of  foreign  burying-grounds.  The  deeper  feel- 
ings of  our  heart,  and  especially  grief,  are  far  removed  from  the  rank,  over- 
grown bushes  or  from  the  flowers  that  are  associated  with  neat  beds  in  a 
lady's  garden.     No;  simplicity  is  unalterably  connected  with  deep  passion. 

"Upon  Saturday,  Halley,  the  two  Millers,  Preston,  and  I,  had  good  fun 
on  the  Ettersberge  playing  'I  spy!'  and  drinking  Wurtzburg.  Well,  Ave 
enjoyed  ourselves  much,  and  not  the  less  as  it  reminded  us  all  of  school 
boy  days. 

"27th  July. — And  now  this  day  on  which  I  write  is  a  Sabbath  later.  I 
have  read  my  Bible,  my  only  good  book.  I  have  then  read  over  my  letters 
again,  as  I  receive  pleasure  from  refreshing  my  mind  with  expressions  of 
love  and  affection. 

"Tell  me,  is  it  weakness  or  childishness  to  have  home  and  friends  ever 
present  to  your  eye1?  Honestly,  I  think  I  am  neither  the  one  nor  the  other, 
and  yet  at  times  I  feel  as  if  a  single  change  by  death  would  make  the  woidd 

*  This  College  friend  was  the  original  from  which  he  drew  the  character  of  "Curley" 
in  "The  Old  Lieutenant." 


WEIMAR.  47 

quite  different  to  me.  I  am  sometimes  frightened  to  think  upon  what  a 
small  point  in  this  respect  hang  my  pleasure  and  my  pain.  In  truth,  the 
Continent  is  a  horrid  place  for  the  total  want  of  means — no  good  books,  no 
sermons,  no  church;  I  mean  foi  me. 

"I  would  renew  my  confidence  and  trust  in  Him  who  has  said,  'Ask  and 
ye  shall  receive ;  I  will  never  leave  you,  I  will  never  forsake  you.'  The 
past  is  still  the  same." 

SONNET  ON  HEARING  OF  COLERIDGE'S  DEATH 
(IN  WEIMAR). 

Oft  have  I  watch 'd,  in  meditative  mood, 

A  sunbeam  travel  over  hill  and  dale : 

Now  searching  the  deep  valley,  now  it  fell, 

With  gorgeous  colouring,  on  some  ancient  wood, 

Or  gleam'd  on  mountain  tarn;  its  silver  flood 

Bathed  every  cottage  hi  the  lowly  vale; 

The  brook,  once  dark  amidst  the  willows  grey, 

Danced  in  its  beams,  and  beauties,  dimly  seen, 

Were  lighted  into  being  by  that  ray : 

The  glory  ceas'd  as  if  it  ne'er  had  been, 

But  in  the  heart  it  cannot  pass  away — 

There  it  is  immortal !     Coleridge,  friend  of  truth, 

Thus  do  I  think  of  thee,  with  feelings  keen 

And  passions  strong,  thou  sunbeam  of  my  youth ! 


To  A  Clerk  : — 

"  Weimar,  October  12,  1834. 

"I  have  just  returned  to  Weimar  after  a  fine  tour.  Look  at  the  map, 
and  draw  your  pencil  from  Weimar  through  Cobourg,  Nuremberg,  Augs- 
burg, Munich,  Innsbruck,  Saltzburg,  Linz,  down  the  Danube  to  Vienna; 
back  to  Briinn,  Prague,  Dresden,  Leipsic,  Weimar;  and  you  have  our  course. 
And  you  may  well  suppose  I  saw  much  to  interest  and  amuse  me.  The 
three  Galleries  of  Munich,  Dresden,  and  Vienna  are  glorious;  I  feasted  upon 
them.  I  was  there  every  hour,  so  that  many  of  the  greatest  works  of  art 
are  engraved  in  my  memory.  The  Tyrol  is  magnificent  beyond  words :  the 
eye  is  charmed,  and  the  heart  filled  still  more,  with  an  overflowing  sense  of 
the  beautiful.  In  religion  the  people  there  are  as  yet  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
Fancy  a  sacred  drama  acted  in  one  of  the  loveliest  scenes  of  nature  before 
about  six  thousand  people,  and  representing  the  Crucifixion !  * 

"Vienna  is  a  strange  place — Greek,  Jew,  and  Gentile;  I  know  not 
which  is  worst ;  I  do  not  like  the  place ;  fine  music,  good  eating,  fine  sights, 
and  a  nasty  people.  I  hate  Austria — tyranny  and  despotism  !  Slaves  and 
serfs  from  Hungary  and  Moravia  walk  under  the  nose  of  the  'Father'  of  his 
people!  They,  poor  souls,  eat  and  drink  while  Metternich  picks  their 
brains  and  pockets.  There  is  no  danger  of  revolution  there  !  They  are 
ignorant  and  stupid.  You  may  be  sure  I  visited  the  fields  of  Wagram  and 
Aspern.  When  in  Briinn — where  I  staid  a  week — I  saw  40,000  men  en- 
Tamped.      A  splendid  sham  fight  took  place,  lasting  two  days,  with  every- 

*  This  must  refer  to  the  Ammergau  Play. 


48  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

thing  like  a  real  battle  except  the  wounds — taking  of  villages  &c. — and  this 
upon  the  mighty  field  of  Austerlitz.  Was  that  not  worth  seeing?  And 
how  fine,  how  strange,  in  the  still,  cool  evening,  to  ride  along  that  great 
camp  stretching  over  a  flat  plain  for  three  or  four  miles,  the  watch-fires 
scattered  over  it,  and  each  regiment  with  its  band  playing  such  music  as  I 
never  heard  ! 

"  At  Prague  I  saw  a  Jewish  synagogue.     It    almost  made   me   weep. 
Such  levity  and  absurdity  I  never  saw.     The  spirit  had  fled  !" 


To  his  Mother  : — 

"  Weimar,  October  28,  1834. 

*  #  *  *  * 

"I  have  made  my  debut  as  a  courtier  ! !  The  court  days  are  Thursday  and 
Sunday.  Every  Sunday  fortnight  you  are  invited  to  dinner  in  full  court 
dress.  Hem  !  I  am  nervous  on  approaching  the  subject.  Imprimis,  a 
cocked-hat  !  under  it  appeareth  a  full,  rosy,  respectable-looking  face,  in 
which  great  sense,  fine  taste,  the  thorough  gentleman,  and  a  certain  spice  of 
a  something  which  an  acute  observer  would  call  royal,  are  all  exquisitely 
blended  !  A  cravat  of  white  supporteth  the  said  head.  Next  comes  the 
coat  which,  having  the  cut,  has  even  more  of  the  modesty,  of  the  Quaker 
about  it.  The  sword  (! !)  which  dangles  beside  it,  however,  assures  you  it  is 
not  a  Jonathan.  Now,  the  whole  frame  down  to  the  knees  is  goodly — 
round  and  plump.  I  say  to  the  knees,  for  there  two  small  buckles  mai-k  tho 
ending  of  the  breeches  and  the  commencement  of  two  handsome  legs  clothed 
in  silk  stockings.  Buckled  shoes  support  the  whole  figure,  which,  with  the 
exception  of  white  kid-gloves,  is  '  black  as  night.'  The  hour  of  dinner  is 
three  ;  you  sally  forth  to  the  Palace,  gathering,  in  going,  like  a  snowball, 
every  Englishman  in  town.  You  move  among  servants  to  the  first  of  a 
finely-lighted  suite  of  rooms.  Ladies  and  gentlemen  are  scattered  about 
chatting  (most  of  the  gentlemen  in  military  uniforms).  You  mingle  with 
the  groups,  bowing  here  and  chatting  there,  and  every  now  and  then  viewing 
yourself  in  one  of  the  fine  mirrors  which  adorn  the  walls  ('  stoot  lad, 
faith/'*)  The  rooms  become  more  crowded  ;  a  bustle  is  heard  ;  the  Grand 
Duke  ard  his  Queen  enter,  sliding  along  between  two  rows  of  people,  who 
return  their  bows  and  becks.  The  Duke  chats  round  the  circle.  If  you  are 
to  be  introduced,  a  lord  or  master-in-waiting  watches  an  opportunity  and 
leads  you  up,  announcing  your  name,  and,  after  making  your  most  profound 
salaam,  a  few  questions  are  put,  as — How  do  you  like  Weimar?  How  long 
do  you  intend  staying  1 — and  the  Duke  bows  and  passes  on.  I  speak 
nothing  but  German  at  coui-t.  Is  that  not  bold  1  but  I  get  on  uncommonly 
well.  You  are  generally  addressed  every  time  you  go.  The  dinner  is  very 
good  ;  sixty  people  or  so  sit  down.  You  leave  after  dinner,  and  return 
again  in  the  evening.  There  is  nothing  done  but  conversation,  though  some 
play  cards.  You  may  retire  when  you  like.  I  do  so  as  soon  as  I  can,  as 
this  is  not  the  way  I  like  to  spend  Sunday  evening.  Every  night  we  have 
some  prince  or  other ;  the  brother  of  the  King  of  Prussia  was  there  last 
time.     How  much  more  have  I  felt  at  a  small  party  at  Cr»\gbarnet  !     But 

*  This  expression  was  one  which  occurred  in  one  of  his  Highland  stories,  and  was 
a  favourite  quotation,  being  always  given  with  the  full  native  accent. 


WEIMAR  49 

thanks  to  these  and  the  worthy  woman  *  who  gave  them,    that    society 
comes  now  so  easy  to  me. 

"  If  you  but  heard  that  best  of  men,  the  honest  Doctor,  and  I  planning 
how  to  keep  all  the  young  fellows  in  order  !  and  when  ten  or  so  meet,  it  is 
no  easy  task.  It  has,  however,  been  done.  "Winter  has  almost  begun ;  we 
had  snow  yesterday.  I  have  a  good  stove  and  abundance  of  wood,  so  with 
a  good  easy-chair — called  in  German  Grossvaterstuhl, — I  am  in  great  com- 
fort. But  now  this  throws  me  back  to  "our  ain  fireside,"  and  then  I  loner 
to  be  among  you  all  to  get  my  heart  out,  for  except  on  paper  it  has  very 
little  exercise.  I  am  studying  hard — Greek  and  Latin  every  day.  I  read 
(this  is  for  my  father,  as  you  are  not  a  German  blue)  Horace  and  Cicero  de 
Officiis  day  about  with  Preston,  the  Greek  Testament  every  morning.  Ask 
my  father  to  write  to  me.  He  has  a  "  vast  of  news"  to  tell  me,  about 
Church,  Irish,  and  Gaelic  matters,  all  of  which  give  me  much  interest. 

"  By-the-bye,  mother,  give  me  your  advice.  Now,  don't  be  sleepy,  I  am 
nearly  done.  What  would  your  well-known  economical  head  suggest  as  to 
— my  court  dress  1  First  of  all  ascertain  whether  there  may  not  be  in  some 
of  the  old  family  chests  a  relic  of  the  only  sprig  of  nobility  in  your  blood — 
Maxwell  of  Newark's  sire.  I  think  old  Aunty  Bax,  if  she  were  bribed  or 
searched,  could  turn  out  an  old  cocked  hat  or  sword.  If  this  scent  fail,  we 
must  try  the  Scandinavian  side.  But  my  idea  is,  all  such  relics  perished 
during  the  Crusades  !  Donald  Gregory  would  give  some  information.  If 
no  such  thing  exists,  then  my  determination  is  fixed,  that  a  room  in  the 
Manse  be  kept  called  the  court-room,  in  which  my  clothes  be  preserved  for 
my  descendants:  I  mean — and  have  no  doubt  by  your  looks  you  have  hit 
on  the  same  idea — that  this  does  not  take  place  until  I  have  worn  them 
first  as  Moderator. 

"  I  think  of  taking  drawing  and  singing  lessons  time  about.  I  think  I 
have  a  taste  for  both,  and  my  idea  is  that  it  is  a  man's  duty  as  well  as 
pleasure  to  enlarge  every  innocent  field  of  enjoyment  which  God  has  put  in 
his  way. 

"  Oh  dear,  I  almost  thought  myself  at  home;  but  the  stove  is  nearly  out, 
and  it  is  still  Deutschland. 

"  I  am,  your  rising 

"  SON." 

To  his  Mother  :— 

"Weimar,  November  19,  1834. 

"  Here  I  sit  on  a  wet,  nasty  evening — Sunday  All  are  at  court  but 
myself.  A  Sunday  evening  here  is  detestable.  If  I  can  spend  it  by  myself, 
good  and  well;  if  not !  No  church,  no  sermon,  no  quiet,  no  books  but  Ger- 
man." 

To  an  old  Fellow  Student  :— 

"  Weimar,  December  2,  1834. 

"I  have  just  received  your  long-wished-for  epistle.  Within  the  last  half- 
hour  I  have  speculated  more  upon  your  condition  (on  what  the  Germans 
call  your  Inneres,  or  inward  being)  than  I  have  ever  done  before.  In 
Heaven's  name,  why  that  doleful  ending  of  a  merry  letter  1     Can  it  be  a 

*  Mrs.  Stirling,  Craigbarnet,  Campsie. 
4 


50  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

joke  1  *  One  that  ivas ' — '  tomb.'  This  must  not  be.  If  you  are  really 
ill,  I  grieve  for  you  as  a  dear  friend;  but  if  it  is  but  fancy,  away  with  it  to 
the  shades  !  Look  out  on  nature  in  all  her  simple  glory ;  feel  yourself  a 
part  and  being  of  the  universe ;  feel  your  own  eternal  dignity,  that  is  beyond 
and  above  all  the  matter  before  which,  alas !  it  often  bows,  but  to  which  it 
owes  no  allegiance ! 


"S' 


'  We  receive  but  what  we  give, 
And  in  our  life  alone  does  nature  live  : 
Ours  is  her  wedding  garment,  ours  her  shroud  !' 

Read  your  Bible,  and,  if  you  want  the  joy,  the  meditative  joy,  which  finds 
religious  meanings  in  the  forms  of  nature,  read  dear  Coleridge,  or  his  brother 
Wordsworth.  But  the  former  I  love,  I  adore.  Buy  his  works,  should  you 
have  no  more  in  the  world  to  spend. 

"  This  moment  I  have  read  your  P.S.,  which  I  did  not  notice.  '  Blood  to 
the  head  !'  What  a  setting  sun  your  face  must  be  !  Did  you  ever  hear 
since  the  days  of  Hippocrates  of  a  fellow  of  your  age  and  strength  having 
blood  to  the  head  1  Why,  man,  I  suppose  you  sometimes  feel  dizzy  and  get 
blind,  and  stagger,  when  you  had  particularly  simple  biliousness ;  for  all 
these  symptoms  I  have  had  a  thousand  times,  and  half  killed  myself  think- 
ing then  as  you  do  now.  Take  a  great  deal  of  exercise  every  day ;  read  a 
few  novels,  and  send  those  blue  devils  to  their  master." 

From  his  Mother  : — 

"  December  8.  1834. 

"  You  complain  of  want  of  books,  and  a  sad  want  it  is ;  but  you  can 
meditate  and  pray,  and  set  no  wrong  example ;  and  you  have  your  Bible — 
his  Bible  who,  to  his  last  moment,  loved  you  with  more  than  a  brother's 
love.  It  will,  I  trust,  be  but  a  secondary  motive  with  you,  but  I  know  his 
image,  as  you  last  parted  from  him,  his  love,  and  a  recollection  of  his  virtues, 
will  ever  rise  up  to  keep  you  sober  in  pursuit,  and  steady  in  principle.  I 
feel  that  when  I  write  to  you,  dearest,  I  will  not  seem  tiresome  or  preach- 
ing too  much." 


BONNET. 

The  time  had  been  when  this  bright  earth  and  sky, 

At  dewy  morn,  calm  eve,  or  starry  night, 

Inspired  the  passionate  and  wild  delight 

Which  only  dwell  with  lofty  purity 

Of  heart  and  thought ;  but  soon  that  holy  light, 

Which  comes  from  heaven  to  beautify 

The  things  of  sense  departed,  and  deep  night 

Concealed  their  glory  from  the  seeking  eye. 

My  soul  was  dimmed  by  all-destroying  sin, 

Which  o'er  my  inner  sense  and  feelings  crept 

Like  frost  at  early  morn.     Still  oft  within 

This  darken'd  heart  a  sudden  gleam,  a  share 

Of  former  joy,  was  mine  ;  and  I  have  wept, 

And  thought  'twas  from  a  distant  mother's  prayer ! 


WEIMAR.  51 

To  his  Mother  :—  "  Weimar,  December,  1834. 

I 

"  You  know,  mother,  there  are  very  few,  if  any,  upon  whose  good  sense, 
in  matters  of  the  world,  I  would  rely  more  than  on  yours.  I  have  serious- 
ly thought  of  all  you  say  about  my  acquiring  tastes  and  habits  uncongenial 
to  my  future  profession.  To  tell  you  the  honest  truth,  this  sometimes  does 
give  me  pain.  To  battle  against  a  thousand  little  things  which  insidiously- 
collect  round  your  mind  like  iron  filings  on  a  magnet,  till  it  is  all  covered, 
is  impossible.  There  is  a  style  of  life  which  has  charms,  talk  of  it  as  you 
please,  and  somehow  or  other  it  comes  quite  naturally  to  me. 

"  But  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  I  trust  I  feel  too  highly  those  mighty 
things  which  constitute  real  greatness,  whether  found  in  clown  or  king ; 
and  the  grand  position  a  zealous  clergyman  takes  in  human  society ; 
together  with  the  world  of  knowledge  I  am  now  acquiring  of  human 
character,  and  of  the  way  to  manage  men — that  I  shall  enter,  under  God's 
blessing,  upon  the  work  with  spirit  and  success,  and  be  above  all  discontent. 

"Say  to  my  father,  with  my  love,  that  I  have  paid  particular  attention 
to  his  part  of  the  letter.  My  next  shall  be  to  him  upon  German  theology 
and  sundry  other  matters. 

"  As  for  the  girls,  keep  none  of  them  cramped  up  at  piano  with  crooked 
backs.  Air  and  liberty  for  the  young,  and  then  two  hours  or  so  of  hard 
earnest  work.     When  I  have  children,  I  shall  certainly  act  on  this  principle  ! 

"  You  predicted  a  great  many  things  about  me  which  have  turned  out 
true,  and  which  make  me  ashamed  of  the  weakness  of  my  character.  I  leave 
Weimar  in  a  month,  at  the  very  furthest]  and  the  regret  with  which  I  leave 
it  makes  me  blush.  Why  am  I  sorry?  Am  I  not  going  home  to  those  who 
love  me  more  than  any  on  earth  1  I  am  ;  and  this  is  invaluable  But  still — 
still  there  are  a  thousand  things  which  1  am  destined  for,  and  which  I  shall 
fulfil,  but  to  which  my  last  year's  education  has  been  directly  opposed. 
Mother,  you  have  taste  yourself,  so  excuse  my  rant.  When  you  only  re- 
member [the  beau-ideal  life  I  have  been  leading,  call  me  weak,  call  me 
fool,  but  let  me  speak  it  out,  and,  like  a  great  ass,  turn  up  my  poor  nose 
against  Scotch  lairds  and  their  pride,  and  Scotch  preachers  with  their  fanati- 
cal notions.  I  agree  with  my  father  to  a  'T'  about  them.  And  to  be  oblig- 
ed to  have  my  piety  measured  by  my  reading  a  newspaper  on  a  Sunday,  or 
such  trash;  or  by  my  vote,  on  this  side  or  that ;  or  by  my  love  of  music; 
or Don't  be  angry,  for  I  am  done,  and  in  better  humour. 

"  I  trust  to  see  you  in  July.  In  the  meantime  I  am  looking  forward  to- 
coming  back  here  this  time  next  year.  Hurrah  for  old  Germany  again  ! 
Next  to  Scotland  I  love  her.  I  am  upon  the  qui  vive  for  a  letter  as  to  our 
route. 

"I  long  to  tell  you  all  my  adventures,  and  how  I  fell  in  love  with  the 
beautiful  'La  Baronne.'  If  you  only  saw  her,  mother!  None  of  your 
'blockheads!'  You  were  once  in  love  yourself,  and  I  don't  blame  you,  for 
my  father  is  a  good-looking  man — 'fine,  stool  man,  faith  /'  She  has  made  me 
a  poet ! 

"  How  do  my  poor  crocuses  look  1  What  happy  feelings  does  the  question 
recall ! — Campsie  long  ago  and  spring  contentment — home  and  happiness  ! 
I  have  no  news.  The  same  routine  of  reading,  balls,  court  concerts,  and 
operas.  I  long  to  hear  if  my  father  has  been  made  Moderator.  I  should 
like  to  be  at  the  head  of  everything.     It  is  a  grand  thing." 


52  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

From  Dr.  Weissenborn  (written  to  N.  after  his  return  to  Scotland): — 

"  Weimak,  July,  1835. 

"  You  appear  to  be  a  thoroughly  revised  and  improved  edition  of 
yourself.  Happy  man,  whose  feelings  are  not  alienated  from  his  native 
country  and  eai'ly  connections  by  a  residence  abroad,  yet  keeps  a  lively  re- 
membrance of  his  friends  there,  whose  sound  constitution  throws  out  foreign 
peccant  matter,  after  having  assimilated  the  wholesome  principles.  Don't 
smile  if  I  become  a  little  pathetic  on  the  subject.  I  really  was  afraid  that 
yoxiv  residence  here  would  have  an  injurious  effect  on  your  tendencies,  in- 
clinations, future  plans,  and  prospects ;  in  short,  your  happiness  and  useful- 
ness to  your  fellow-creatures.  I  therefore  looked  forward  towards  your 
return  not  as  a  happy  event,  but  as  one  fraught  with  evil  consequences  and 
uneasy  feelings  to  myself,  the  more  so  because  my  health  is  so  very  bad  and 
fluctuating,  that  I  would  have  felt  all  the  misery  you  might  have  brought 
upon  yourself  without  being  able  to  remedy  or  lessen  it.  You'll  forgive  a  sick 
man  if  he  take,  perhaps,  too  gloomy  a  view  of  things;  but  you  may  judge 
how  happy  I  feel  to  find  that  all  my  evil  anticipations  are  dispelled  by  your 
letter.  As  to  the  difference  of  opinion  which  exists  between  you  and  me 
with  respect  to  religion,  I  trust  it  is  only  formal,  and  I  hope  German 
rationalism  has  not  made  you  a  whit  less  inclined  to  dispense  the  blessings 
of  religion  to  your  future  parishioners  under  those  forms  which  are  most 
suited  to  their  circumstances,  or  most  likely  to  produce  the  best  practical 
results;  though  I  am  convinced  myself  that  we  can't  stem  the  torrent  of  the 
age  so  effectually  here  as  it  may  be  possible  on  your  insulating  stand  of  old 
England.  We  must  first  experience  its  devastations  before  we  can  reap  the 
fruit  of  its  inundation." 


CHAPTER    V. 

APRIL,   1835 — NOVEMBER,   1836. 

WITH  the  exception  of  a  brief  visit  to  Scotland,  he  remained  at 
Moreby  from  April,  1835,  when  he  returned  from  the  Con- 
tinent, till  October  of  the  same  year.  He  then  went  to  Glasgow  to 
resume  his  theological  studies.  As  his  father  was  at  that  time  leaving 
Campsie  for  his  new  charge  of  St.  Columba,  Glasgow,  he  lived  with 
his  valued  friend  and  relative,  Mr.  William  Gray,  in  Brandon  Place. 
He  at  once  devoted  himself  to  hard  study.  Not  only  do  his  note- 
books show  the  extensive  field  of  reading  he  went  over,  but  his  former 
fellow-students  were  surprised  at  the  rapid  mastery  he  had  obtained 
over  various  branches  of  theological  learning  in  which  he  had  before 
shown  only  a  passing  interest.  For  although  his  previous  education 
had  not  been  favourable  to  scholarship  in  the  technical  sense,  yet 
from  this  time  to  his  latest  day  he  cultivated  accurate  methods,  read 
extensively  on  whatever  subjects  he  was  professionally  occupied  with, 
worked  daily  at  his  Greek  Testament,  and  kept  himself  well  informed 
as  to  the  results  of  modern  criticism.  He  had  the  rare  faculty  of 
rapidly  getting  the  gist  of  a  book,  and,  without  toiling  over  every  page, 
he  seemed  always  to  grasp  the  salient  points,  and  in  a  marvellously 
short  time  carried  away  all  that  was  worth  knowing. 

In  the  May  of  1836,  his  father  having  been  elected  Moderator  of 
the  Church  of  Scotland,  he  went  to  Edinburgh,  and  listened  with 
great  interest  to  the  debates  of  an  Assembly,  the  attention  of  which 
was  directed  to  Church  work  rather  than  to  Church  polity. 

The  passages  from  his  journals  referring  to  his  spiritual  condition, 
which  are  given  throughout  this  memoir,  while  no  more  than  speci- 
mens of  very  copious  entries,  are  yet  thoroughly  just  representations 
of  the  self-scrutiny  to  which  he  subjected  himself  during  his  whole 
life.  Those  who  knew  him  only  in  society,  buoyant  and  witty,  over- 
flowing with  animal  spirits,  the  very  soul  of  laughter  and  enjoyment, 
may  feel  surprised  at  the  almost  morbid  self-condemnation  and  ex- 
cessive tenderness  of  conscience  which  these  journals  display,  still 
more  at  the  tone  of  sadness  which  so  frequently  pervades  them.  For 
while  such  persons  may  remember  how  his  merriest  talk  generally 
passed  imperceptibly  into  some  graver  theme — so  naturally,  indeed, 
that  the  listener  could  scarcely  tell  how  it  was  that  the  conversation 


54  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

had  changed  its  tone — yet  only  those  who  knew  him  very  intimately 
were  aware  that,  although  his  outer  life  had  so  much  of  apparent 
abandon,  he  not  only  preserved  a  habit  of  careful  spiritual  self-culture, 
but  was  often  subject  to  great  mental  depression,  and  was  ever  haunted 
with  a  consciousness  of  the  solemnity,  if  not  the  sadness,  of  life. 

In  point  of  fact,  much  of  his  self-reproach  arose  from  the  earnestness 
of  the  conflict  which  he  waged  against  his  own  natural  tendency  to 
self-indulgence.  For  if  on  one  side  he  had  deep  spiritual  affinities  and 
a  will  firmly  resolved  on  the  attainment  of  holiness,  he  had  on  the 
other  a  temperament  to  which  both  "the  world  and  the  ilesh"  appealed 
with  tremendous  power.  His  abounding  humour  and  geniality  had, 
as  usual,  their  source  in  a  deeply  emotional  region ;  rendering  him 
quickly  susceptible  to  impressions  from  without,  and  easily  moved  by 
what  appealed  strongly  to  his  tastes.  This  rich  vein  of  human  feeling, 
which  constituted  him  many-sided  and  sympathetic,  and  gave  him  so 
much  power  over  others,  laid  him  also  open  to  peculiar  trials  in  his 
endeavour  after  a  close  life  with  God.  Besides,  as  if  to  be  the  better 
fitted  for  .dealing  with  others,  there  was  given  to  him  more  than  the 
usual  share  of  the  experiences  of  "  life;"  for  he  was  frequently  brought 
strangely  and  closely  into  contact  with  various  forms  of  evil — subtle 
and  fascinating  ;  thus  gaining  an  insight  into  the  ways  of  sin — though, 
by  God's  grace,  he  remained  unscathed  by  its  evil. 

And  not  only  this  self-scrutiny,  but  the  tone  of  sadness  also  which 
pervades  these  journals,  must  sound  strange  from  one  generally  so 
buoyant.  The  tendency  to  reaction  common  to  all  sanguine  natures, 
combined  with  his  Celtic  blood,  may  perhaps  have  helped  to  give  it 
the  shape  it  so  frequently  takes,  for  the  way  in  which  he  moralises 
even  in  youth  upon  approaching  age,  and  ever  and  anon  speaks  of 
death,  and  of  the  transitoriness  of  the  present,  is  quite  typical  of  the 
temperament  of  the  Highlanders  of  the  Western  Islands.  But  there 
was  an  element  in  his  own  character  strong  yet  subtle  in  its  influence, 
which  produced  finer  veins  of  melancholy.  The  more  than  childlike 
intensity  with  which  his  affections  clung  to  persons,  places,  associa- 
tions, made  him  dread  separation,  and  that  very  dread  suggested  all 
manner  of  speculations  as  to  the  future.  He  was  continually  forecast- 
ing change.  There  was  assuredly  throughout  this  more  of  a  longing 
for  "the  larger  life  and  fuller"  than  a  mawkish  bewailing  of  the 
vanishing  present.  His  views  of  the  glorious  purpose  of  God  in 
creation  were  from  the  first  healthy  and  hopeful,  and  became  one  of 
the  strongest  points  in  his  creed.  Nevertheless,  it  served  to  produce 
a  side  of  character  which  was  deeply  solemn,  so  that  when  left  alone 
with  his  own  thoughts  a  kind  of  eerie  sadness  was  cast  over  his  views 
of  life.  The  deep  undertones  of  death  and  eternity  sounded  constantly 
in  his  ear,  even  when  he  seemed  only  bent  on  amusement.  His 
favourite  quotation  literally  expressed  his  experience — 

"I  hear  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore." 


APRIL,  IMS— NOVEMBER,  183G.  G5 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Moreby,  April  30,  1835. — I  have  at  last  returned  from  the  Continent 
this  morning.  With  how  many  feelings  of  the  past  do  I  write  it !  I  read 
over  many  old  letters  and  journals,  and  I  felt  the  old  man,  which  I  supposed 
one  little  year  had  crushed,  to  be  as  strong  as  ever.  No,  not  quite  so 
strong ;  but  still  he  was  there,  and  I  could  recognise  many  of  his  old 
familiar  features.  This  last  year  has  been  quite  an  episode  in  my  life ;  it 
does  not  seem  to  chime  in  with  the  rest  of  the  story,  and  yet  it  is  a  material 
and  important  part  of  it. 

"  It  was  a  dream  ;  its  people  were  images  in  a  dream,  never  seen  before 
or  to  be  seen  again.  Everything  was,  and  flashed  upon  me.  I  am  awake, 
and  the  dream  is  past. 

"Halves,  Aug.  \Wi. — Spent  this  morning  in  fishing,  and,  after  walking 
eight  or  nine  miles,  returned  as  I  went.  I  had,  however,  for  my  guide  and 
companion  a  most  rare  specimen  of  a  Yorkshireman.  He  is  the  village 
cobbler.  He  and  his  have  been  here  from  generation  to  generation ;  and 
what  part  of  the  shire  is  more  secluded  than  Hawes  !  We  spent  the 
time  in  'chat  and  clatter;'  and  with  his  peculiar  drawl  and  stories  I  was 
much  amused  : — '  Ise  deena  believe  measell  what  foaks  sea  like,  boot  t' 
wutches  beean  in  'deals  like,  boot  thea  sea  hoa  there  weas  yance  in  t'  time 
ot  t'  wear  maebea  hoondred  year  and  mear  a  man  wid  ceart  an  harse  gang 
i-oop  bye  t'  Fell  theare,  and  in  t'  ceart  was  a  kist  and  gooald  ;  an  t'  neame 
ot  hoarse  was  Ham.  Soa  t'  driver  sead,  '  Che  wo  hoop,  Ham.  We  God's 
mind  or  noa  oop  heel  thou  man  gang.'  Soa  t'  heel  opened  like,  and  t'  keest 
fell  een,  and  thear  weas  nought  mear  aboot  eet  !  Boot  yance  seex  parsons 
were  tae  conjor  it  oot,  and  toald  t'  wae  or  't  foar  leads  we  them  to  say  nout; 
and  soa  they  prayed  and  prayed  teelt  they  gat  thee  keest  and  youked  t' 
harse,  boot  yan  o'  t'  leads  said — '  Gad  lads  !  wese  geet  eet  yeet.'  When  t' 
keest  howped  oop  t'  heel  an'  weas  seen  nea  mear.' 

"  The  cobbler  once  talked  with  a  man  who  had  gone  to  Kendall  to  see  the 
Highlanders  pass  north.  They  had  no  shoes,  and  looked  miserable  ;  plun- 
dering, but  not  slaying.  The  landlord  with  whom  he  staid  had  his  shoes 
taken  off  him  thrice,  by  successive  parties. 

"Ambleside,  Vbth  August. — I  have  to-clay  accomplished  what  I  have  long 
sought.  I  have  seen,  talked,  and  spent  two  or  three  hours  with  Words- 
worth. I  set  off  in  the  morning  with  a  note  of  introduction  by  myself,  for 
myself.  I  arrived  at  the  door  of  a  sweet,  beautiful  cottage,  and  was  ushered 
into  a  small  parlour  with  a  small  libraiy,  chiefly  filled  with  books  of  poetry, 
among  which  was  a  fine  edition  of  Dante.  Presently  the  old  man  came  in 
in  an  old  brown  great-coat,  large  straw  hat,  and  umbrella,  and  ushered  me 
into  a  small,  plainly  furnished  parlour.  Here  we  sat  some  time,  talking 
about  Germany,  its  political  state,  and  the  character  of  its  inhabitants, — of 
the  Scotch  Church  and  the  levelling  system,  and  right  of  voting ;  and  here 
he  read  me  the  note  from  his  last  volume.  We  then  went  out  and  stood  on 
the  lovely  green  mound  commanding  views  of  Rydal  and  Windermere. 
There  I  said  to  him,  '  We  are  sorry  that  you  are  not  a  friend  of  Ossian.' 
This  set  him  a-going,  in  which  he  defended  himself  against  the  charge,  and 
saying  '  that  although  self-praise  was  no  honour,  yet  he  thought  he  might 
say  that  no  man  had  written  more  feelingly  than  he  in  his  favour.  Not  the 
Ossian  of  McPherson,  which  was  trash,  but  the  spirit  of  Ossian  was  glorious; 


56  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

and  this  he  had  maintained.'  He  then  brought  his  works  and  read  many 
passages  in  the  bower  showing  this.  He  said  that  he  had  moi'e  enemies  in 
Scotland  than  elsewhere;  that  his  little  volume  could  not  fight  against  all 
the  might  of  a  long-established  Review — it  was  stupidity  or  envy  ;  but  that 
his  book  had  now  got  greater  circulation  tban  they  or  it  ever  had.  His 
books  must  be  studied  to  be  understood — they  were  not  for  ladies,  to  be 
read  lounging  on  a  sofa. 

"  He  said  that  Professor  Wilson  was  an  exceedingly  clever  man,  and  that 
ifc  was  such  a  pity  that  his  talents  and  energies  were  not  directed  to  one 
point.  On  our  return  to  the  house,  he  said  he  had  suffered  much  distress. 
His  dear  sister  was  dead,  his  daughter  was  lying  ill  with  spine,  and  now  an 
old  family  servant  was  dying,  '  but  I  endeavour  to  amuse  myself  as  I  can.' 

"I  blessed  the  dear  old  man,  came  away;  and  he  said  he  might  wander 
into  my  house  some  day  or  other  in  Scotland.  Oh,  how  I  felt  as  I  heard 
him  read  in  his  deep  voice  some  of  his  own  imperishable  verses — the  lovely 
evening — the  glorious  scene — the  poetry  and  the  man  ! 

"Aug.  2ith. — I  received  from  home  a  parcel,  and  a  letter  from  my  father, 
who  is  in  London  about  the  Psalms.  The  event  which  he  communicates  is 
to  me  all-important — he  leaves  Campsie  and  goes  to  Glasgow.  What  are 
my  feelings  1  I  can  hardly  express  them.  It  is  a  struggle  between  the 
ideal  and  real  !  On  calmly  considering  it,  I  do  think  that  the  change  is 
much  for  the  better.  A  large  family  is  nowhere  in  such  an  advantageous 
position  for  every  improvement  and  advancement  as  in  a  town ;  which  is 
also,  I  believe,  more  economical.  Yet  to  leave  Campsie  !  Spot  of  my  earnest 
feelings,  and  of  the  dearest  associations  of  the  happiest  period  of  my  life  ! 
Gone  are  the  continued  presence  of  green  fields  and  free  air — gone  the  iden- 
tifying of  every  lovely  spot  with  the  bright  thoughts  of  youthful  existence. 

"  1  wish  I  could  write  a  series  of  sonnets  entitled  '  Influences  ;'  viz.  :  all 
those  projections  which  turn  the  stream  of  life  out  of  its  course,  bending  it 
slightly  without  giving  it  a  new  direction.  Nothing  makes  a  man  so  con- 
tented as  an  experience  gathered  from  a  well-watched  past.  As  the  beauty 
of  the  finest  landscape  is  sometimes  marred  on  actual  inspection  by  a 
nauseous  weed  at  your  feet,  or  painful  headache,  or  many  little  things, 
which  detract  from  a  loveliness  only  fully  felt  in  the  recollection  when 
those  trifles  are  forgotten — so,  our  chief  happiness  is  too  often  in  recollec- 
tion of  the  past,  or  anticipation  of  the  future.  Now,  it  is  knowing  what 
the  past  really  was,  which  we  now  recall  with  so  much  pleasure,  and  over 
which  there  seems  '  a  light  which  never  was  on  sea  or  land,'  that  we  are 
able  to  estimate  the  amount  of  happiness  and  value  of  the  present.  And  I 
think  he  who  does  this  will  seldom  be  discontented ;  for  the  miseries  of  life 
are  few,  and  its  blessings  are  'new  to  us  every  morning  and  evening.' 

"  I  have  just  returned  from  a  pleasant  walk,  with  a  lovely  sunset,  and 
the  cushats  weeping  and  wailing  in  the  wood. 

"September  15th. — The  long-expected  festival-week  is  past!  I  never 
have  in  my  life,  nor  ever  expect  again  to  have,  such  a  glorious  treat — I 
have  heard  The  Creation. 

"  I  shall  not  attempt  to  offer  a  criticism  upon  the  music  which  I  heard 
during  the  festival.  Whoever  has  seen  York  Minster,  may  fancy  the  effect 
of  a  grand  chorus  of  640  performers  before  an  assembled  multitude  of 
perhaps  7,000  people,  with  Braham,  Phillips,  Itubini,  Lablache,  Grisi,  &c. 


APRIL,  1835— NOVEMBER,  1830.  57 

"  We  had  very  delightful  company  in  the  house — Sir  Charles  Dolbiac, 
(M.P.)  and  daughter ;  Milncs  Gaskill,  M.P.,  wife  and  sister-in-law;  Miss 
Wynn  Smith ;  Wright,  with  his  wife  and  daughter ;  Lady  Sitwell ;  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Norton;  Mr.  and  Miss  Forbes,  Edinburgh;  Captain  Campbell, 
7th  Hussars ;  Lord  Grey.  I  had  the  most  interesting  conversation  with 
Gaskill,  Wright,  and  Lady  Sitwell. 

"  Gaskill  mentioned  the  following  things : — Peel  does  not  confide  suf- 
ficiently in  his  own  party,  he  tells  nothing  to  them  ;  but  if  you  do  make  a 
good  speech,  he  will  shake  you  by  the  hand  and  talk  kindly.  His  difficulties 
on  the  Catholic  question  were  great.  His  principal  adviser  and  confidential 
friend  was  Dr.  Lloyd,  of  Oxford.  The  Duke,  who  looks  at  a  question  of 
politics  like  men  in  a  field  of  battle,  after  two  hours'  conversation,  told 
Peel  that  he  had  agreed.  Peel  knew  there  was  no  use  fighting  in  the 
council,  and  he  determined  to  resign.  He  went  to  Windsor  to  do  so.  The 
King,  who  had  all  the  feelings  of  his  father  on  the  subject,  remonstrated, 
and  asked  Peel  if  he  could  form  a  Ministry  which  would  resist.  Peel  saw 
it  was  impossible.  The  King  then  said,  that  what  he  would  not  do  as 
an  individual  he  was  compelling  him  to  do  by  asking  him  to  change. 
Would  he  desert  him  1  Would  he  leave  the  onus  on  him  %  Peel  came 
home,  and  for  two  nights  never  went  to  bed.  Wrote  to  his  friend  Dr. 
Lloyd  'that  he  knew  that  in  sticking  to  the  King,  from  the  most  loyal 
motives,  he  was  sacrificing  his  political  character,  &c. ;  and  so  he  passed  it : 
and  now  he  would  willingly  change  his  mind  ! 

"  Peel's  memory  is  amazing.  '  Can  you  forget  all  this  trash  V  said  he  to 
a  friend,  as  a  member  was  speaking.  '  /  can't ;'  and  so  he  never  did,  but 
woidd  recall  words  and  circumstances  a  year  afterwards. 

"  One  night  Mr.  Gaskill  was  at  a  party  at  the  Duke  of  's  ;   Peel, 

Wellington,  and  some  others,  were  playing  whist ;  Croker  was  learning 
ecarte  at  another  table.  '  Go,'  said  Peel  to  one  of  his  friends — '  go  and  ask 
if  he  ever  learned  the  game  before.'  '  Never,'  said  Croker,  '  upon  my 
soul.'  '  Well,'  said  Peel  to  his  friend,  who  returned,  '  I'll  bet,  in  twenty 
minutes  by  my  watch,  Croker  tells  his  teacher  that  he  does  not  know  how 
to  play.  In  Jive  minutes  Croker  was  heard  saying,  '  Well,  do  you  know,  I 
should  not  have  thought  that  the  best  way  of  playing.'  This  was  received 
with  a  roar  of  laughter. 

"  September  16th. — O  God,  I  am  a  weak,  poor,  sinful  man,  unmindful  of 
past  mercies,  and  of  a  hardened  heart.  Merciful  Father,  I  implore  pardon 
from  Thee  for  my  sins,  and  entreat  the  aid  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  by  which 
alone  I  can  fight  the  evil  one.  Hear  me,  for  the  sake  of  the  atoning  blood 
of  Thy  dear  Son,  in  whose  eternal  merits  I  trust  alone  for  salvation. 

"  September  28th,  1835. — G.  was  staying  with  us.  He  is  the  editor  of  a 
periodical  called  The  Churchman,  and  is  a  most  violent  Episcopalian  of  the 
old  school,  as  he  was  once  as  violent  a  dissenter  of  the  new.  There  are 
few  liberal  Churchmen — very  few ;  and  to  me  nothing  is  more  absurd  than 
the  violence  of  men  professing  the  same  faith  in  all  its  essentials,  and,  in 
the  present  state  of  things,  cutting  one  another's  throats.  England  is  be- 
ginning to  reform  her  clergy  ;  and  good  morals,  with  a  sound  Calvinistic 
theology,  are  rapidly  gaining  ground.  I  have  myself  seen  so  much  wicked- 
ness in  manners  and  opinions  that  my  heart  bows  before  a  good  Christian 
wherever  I  meet  him.     We  had  good  sacred  music  on  Sunday  evening. 


53  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

This  may  be  abused  ;  and  then,  perhaps,  it  is  wrong.  But  certainly  to  me 
it  is  infinitely  more  sacred  than  the  chatter  around  the  fireside  on  stuff  and 
nonsense,  such  as  I  have  frequently  heard.  But  remember  Paul  and  the 
1  meats.' 

"September  29th. — I  had  to-night  a  long  argument  with  an  atheist,  Mr. 

C .     I  have  known  intimately  many  strange  thinkers,  from  fanatics  to 

atheists.  All  sceptics  whom  I  have  ever  met  have  been  very  ignorant  of 
the  argument  and  facts  of  the  case.  This  has  been  my  confirmed  experi- 
ence in  Germany  and  England.  Fanatics  knew  and  felt  ten  times  more. 
Believing  too  much  is  more  philosophical  than  believing  nothing  at  all. 

"  I  finished  Heine's  '  History  of  Modern  German  Literature.'  His 
German  style  is  beautiful ;  his  remarks  astonishingly  striking,  original,  and 
pointed ;  his  character  of  the  poetry,  painting,  architecture  of  the  Middle 
Ages  admirable. 

"  Sunday,  1 1  th. — This  is  the  last  Sunday  I  shall  spend  in  Moreby  for 
some  time.  How  many  pleasant  ones  have  I  had  in  the  old  church  at 
Stillingfleet,  in  its  antique  pew  and  oak  seats,  worn  away  by  numberless 
generations  !  I  trust  I  have  seen  enough  of  the  English  Church  to  love  her 
capabilities  and  to  admire  her  mode  of  worship  ;  and  while  I  enter  with 
heart  into  that  mode  and  form  in  which  I  have  been  bom  and  bred,  I  trust 
to  have  for  ever  an  affection  for  the  venerable  Liturgy  and  those  institutions 
which  so  well  accomplish  their  purpose  of  diffusing  the  Gospel  of  Christ 
among  the  nations.  O  Lord,  I  thank  Thee  for  the  many  peaceful  Sabbaths 
which  I  have  enjoyed.  Forgive  their  much  abuse,  and  still  preserve  my 
mind  more  and  more  for  that  eternal  Sabbath  which  I  hope  one  day,  through 
the  blood  of  the  Atonement,  to  spend  with  Thee  in  heaven. 

"  October  loth. — The  last  night  at  Moreby.  How  much  could  I  now  say 
on  my  leaving  this  excellent  family  whom  I  esteem  so  much  and  highly  ! 
Mr.  Preston  has  been  as  a  father.     God  bless  them  all ! 

"  I  thank  Thee,  O  God,  through  Jesus  Christ,  for  all  Thou  hast  done  for 
me  since  I  came  into  this  family.  Lord,  may  Thy  kindness  not  be  thrown 
away,  but  may  everything  work  for  my  good.     Amen,  Amen. 

"  Glasgow,  23rd  December. — This  day  two  years  ago  James  died.  I  shall 
ever  consider  this  day  as  worthy  of  my  remembrance,  because  to  me  it 
marks  the  most  important  era  of  my  life.  Amidst  temptations  it  has 
warned  me  ;  in  my  Christian  course  it  has  cheered  me.  In  far  other  scenes 
than  these  I  have  remembered  it  with  solemn  feelings,  and  I  trust  I  may 
never  forget  it  or  the  habits  it  has  engendered.  The  more  I  see  of  the 
world,  the  more  I  look  upon  the  dear  boy  as  the  purest  being  I  ever  met 
with  ;  and  now  I  rejoice  he  is  in  heaven.  Lord,  may  I  never  forget  that 
time. 

"  21th  ;  last  Sunday  of  1S35. — I  never  felt  a  greater  zest  for  study  than 
now.  The  truth,  sincerity,  simplicity,  and  the  eloquence,  of  the  older 
divines  is  a  source  of  much  pleasure.  I  have  adopted  the  plan  of  keeping  a 
note-book  which  I  call  'Hints  for  Sermons,'  in  which  I  put  down  whatever 
may  prove  useful  for  my  future  ministrations.  Unfortunately  what  is 
useful  is  not  nowadays  the  most  taking,  and  we  have  lost  much  of  our 
simple-hearted  Christianity.  Our  very  clergy  are  dragging  us  down  to  lick 
the  dust,  and  the  influence  of  the  mob  is  making  our  young  men  a  sub- 
servient set  of  fellows.     I  see  among  our  better-thinking  clergy  a  strong 


APRIL,  1835— NOVEMBER,  183G.  59 

episcopalian  spirit ;  they  are  beginning  to  see  the  use  of  a  set  form  of 
worship.  And  who  can  look  at  the  critical,  self-sufficient  faces  of  the  one- 
half  of  our  congregations  during  prayers,  and  the  labour  and  puffing  and 
blowing  of  some  aspirant  to  a  church,  and  not  deplore  the  absence  of  some 
set  prayers  which  would  keep  the  feelings  of  many  right-thinking  Christian 
from  being  hurt  every  Sabbath. 

"January  6th,  183G. — I  went  down  to  Campbeltown,  and  I  returned  to- 
day with  Scipio  and  George  Beatson.  What  were  my  feelings  when  I  saw 
Campbeltown — aye,  what  were  they  I  Almost  what  I  anticipated  ; — a  half 
breaking  up  of  the  ideal.  Gone  was  the  glory  and  the  dream — gone  the  old 
familiar  faces.  Everything  seemed  changed,  save  the  old  hills  ;  and  it  was 
only  when  I  gazed  on  them  that  I  felt  a  return  of  the  old  feelings,  glimpses 
of  boyhood,  short  but  beautiful,  that  soon  passed  away,  and  I  felt  I  was  a 
changed  man — how  changed  since  those  days ! 

"  We  were  gay  to  our  'hearts'  content :'  a  ball  every  night  and  breakfasts 
every  morning,  with  interludes  of  dinners.  I  never  received  more  kindness 
in  my  life. 

"  Be  honest !  In  Campbeltown  I  forgot  God  altogether.  If  ever  there 
was  a  cold,  forgetful  sinner,  I  am  the  man.  If  it  was  not  for  my  peculiarly 
fortunate  circumstances  of  life,  I  would  have  been  a  thorough-going  sinner. 
My  heart  is  blunt ;  every  time  I  fall  back  I  am  so  much  the  worse — it 
quenches  faith,  resolution,  hope.  Well  may  I  say,  '  Lord  save  me,  or  I 
perish.' 

"  Poor  dear !    I  received  such  a  letter  from  him  in  answer  to  an 

earnest  exhortation  to  him  to  change  his  ways.     The  Lord  bless  him ! 

"  Is  it  proper  to  endeavour  to  convert  a  man  by  any  other  but  Christian 
motives — prudential  or  moral  1  I  think  it  is.  A  hardened  sinner  must  have 
motives  addressed  to  him  which  he  can  feel  and  understand.  Let  this  be  a 
matter  for  thought.     My  mother  denies  its  truth." 

To  A.  Clerk  : — 

"  10,  Brandon  Place,  Glasgow,  January  13,  1836. 

"  For  once  in  my  life  I  am  working  for  the  class,  writing  essays  for  a 
prize!  Are  you  not  astonished]  Fleming  gives  out  five  or  six  subjects. 
The  first  was  on  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  Creation ;  and  I  sent  him  in  one 
of  eighty  pages  crammed  with  geology,  which  even  '  the  Doctor's  '  (Sinclair) 
most  scientific  conversations  (which  used  to  bore  you)  were  nothing  to. 
Fleming  had  the  good  sense  to  appreciate  it ;  and  he  said  privately  to  my 
father  that  '  it  had  more  in  it  than  all  the  others  put  together.'  But  you 
never  saw  such  fellows !  Some  of  them  open  their  goggle  eyes,  when  I 
dare  to  speculate  on  some  of  the  great  doctor's  ipse  dixits.  Think  of  them 
the  other  day !  there  was  a  meeting  in  the  PI  all,  and  M'Gill  in  the  chair, 
to  determine  whether  Blackwood  should  be  kicked  out  of  the  Hall  Library 
and  sent  in  search  of  the  Edinburgh  Review,  long  ago  black-balled !  Poor 
Maga  was  peppered  with  a  whole  volley  of  anathemas;  and  if  it  was  not  for 
some  fellows  of  sense  who  were  determined  to  give  old  Christopher  a  lift  on 
his  stilts,  he  would  have  hobbled  down  the  turnpike  stair  to  make  room  for 
a  dripping  Baptist  or  oily-haired  Methodist.  Oh,  I  hate  cant — I  detest  it, 
Clerk,  from  my  'heart  of  hearts  !'  There  is  a  manliness  about  true  Chi-isti- 
anity,  a  consciousness  of  strength,  which  enables  it  to  make  everything  its 
own 


60  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

"  The  people  are  becoming  all  in  all.  And  what  are  the  forthcoming 
ministers?  The  people's  slaves  or  deceivers.  It  is,  I  admit,  the  opinion  of 
a  young  man ;  but  I  feel  that  we  are  going  down  hill — talk,  talk,  talk — big 
words — popularity — that  god  which  is  worshipped  wherever  a  chapel  stands. 
This  is  what  I  fear  we  are  coming  to — our  very  prayers  are  the  subjects  of 
display  and  criticism.  I  rejoice  to  think  there  is  One  who  guides  all  to 
good,  that  the  world  on  the  whole  is  ever  advancing  in  the  right,  though 
poor  Scotland  may,  perhaps,  lag  behind  for  a  season." 

During  the'session  of  1835-36  a  coterie  of  young  men,  possessed  of 
kindred  genius  and  humour,  used  to  meet  for  the  interchange  of  wit, 
and  of  literary  productions,  whose  chief  merit  was  their  absurdity. 
Horatio  M'Culloch,  the  landscape  painter,  and  his  brother  artist,  Mac- 
Nee;  the  late  Principal  Leitch,  and  his  brother,  Mr.  John  Leitch,  a 
well-known  litterateur;  the  Dean  of  Argyll,  and  his  brother,  Mr.  Mac- 
George;  M'Msh,  the  author  of  the  "Anatomy  of  Drunkenness;"  and 
Norman  Macleod,  were  the  leading  spirits  of  the  fraternity.  One  of 
the  chief  ties  which  bound  them  in  fellowship  was  the  presence  of 

Dugald  M ,  poet  and  local  celebrity.  M was  not  without  talent, 

and  made  several  creditable  attempts  in  verse;  but  his  extraordinary- 
self-importance,  his  unconsciousness  of  ridicule,  and  the  bombastic 
character  of  many  of  his  productions  made  him  a  ready  butt  for  the 
shafts  of  drollery  with  which  the  young  fellows  who  met  at  those  sup- 
pers were  abundantly  armed*  Before  the  year  was  out  they  printed 
a  series  of  squibs  written  for  their  gatherings.  The  volume  was 
entitled,  "Sparks  of  Promethean  Fire;  or  Chips  from  the  Thunderbolts 
of  Jove,"  and  professed  to  be  published  at  Stromboli,  for  the  firm  of 
Gog,  Magog,  and  Co. 

These  poems  were  indirectly  meant  as  caricatures  of  the  pompous 
emptiness,  the  incongruous  magnificence,  and  the  grandiose  scene- 
painting  of  the  poet  Dugald.  Hades  and  the  Arctic  Pole,  the  volcanic 
fires  and  sulphurous  craters  of  Etna  and  Hecla,  whales,  mammoths, 
and  mastodons,  had  therefore  to  lend  their  aid  in  the  production  of  a 
jumble  of  astounding  nonsense. 

Only  one  specimen  of  the  volumes  has  been  reprinted—"  The  Death 
of  Space,"  by  Mr.  John  Leitch,  which  was  engrossed  in  "Bon  Gual- 
tier."  Norman  Macleod  contributed  four  pieces — "The  Eeign  of 
Death,"  "The  Phantom  Festival,"  "Professor  Boss'sf  Drinking-Song," 
and  "Invocation  to  Professor  Boss,  who  fell  into  the  Crater  of  Hecla." 
We  give  the  two  last. 

*  Once  at  a  public  dinner,  when  the  toast  of  "the  poets  of  Scotland,  coupled  with 

the  name  of  Dugald  M "  was  proposed,  in  terms  which  seemed  to  disparage  the 

practical  importance  of  their  art,  Dugald,  rising  in  great  indignation,  determined  to 
give  the  ignoramus  a  lesson  on  the  grandeur  of  the  offended  muse.  "I  will  tell  the 
gentleman,"  he  shouted,  "what  poetry  is.  Poetry  is  the  language  of  the  tempest 
when  it  roars  through  the  crashing  forest.  The  waves  of  ocean  tossing  their  foam- 
ing crests  under  the  lash  of  the  hurricane — they,  sir,  speak  in  poetry.  Poetry,  sir  ! 
poetry  was  the  voice  in  which  the  Almighty  thundered  through  the  awful  peaks  of 
Sinai ;  and  I  myself,  sir,  have  published  live  volumes  of  poetry,  and  the  last,  in  its 
third  edition,  can  be  had  for  the  price  of  five  shillings  and  sixpence  !  " 

t  "Boss"  was  the  bye-name  he  had  for  his  very  dear  friend,  the  late  Principal 
Leitch,  one  of  +.he  idlest  and  beat  of  men. 


APRIL,  1835— NOVEMBER,  1836.  61 

PROFESSOR  BOSS'  DRINKING  SONG. 

Air — "  Bekriinzt  mit  Laub  den  liebevollcn  Becher," 
or—"  The  Rhine  !  the  Rhine  !  "  &c,  &c. 

Drink,  drink  and  swill,  ye  jolly  old  Professors, 

You'll  find  it  royal  stuff, 

You'll  find  it  royal  stuff; 
What  though  the  waves  of  ocean  roll  above  us, 

We  do  not  care  a  snuff! 

We  do  not  care  a  snuff ! 

Diodati,  Kent,  Gleim,  Mendelssohn,  Swighausen, 

Ich  bin  Ihr  Bruder  Boss  ! 

Ich  bin  Ihr  Bruder  Boss  ! 
Pass  round  the  jorum,  and  with  all  the  honours, 

Drink  to  Commander  Ross  ! 

Drink  to  Commander  Ross  ! 

Ices  I've  eat  in  Paris  at  Tortoni's ; 

Broiled  chicken  too  in  Wien, 

Broiled  chicken  too  in  Wien  ; 
But  who  would  talk  of  such  barbaric  messes, 

Who  our  turns-out  had  seen  ! 

Who  our  turns-out  had  seen  ! 

For  here  we  dine  on  whales  and  fossil  mammoths, 

With  walrus  for  our  lunch, 

With  walrus  for  our  lunch  ; 
We've  Hecla's  flames  to  warm  our  glass  of  toddy, 

And  ice  to  cool  our  punch  ! 

And  ice  to  cool  our  punch  ! 

See  how  our  smoke  is  curling  up  the  crater, 

Ho,  spit  and  rouse  its  fires  ! 

Ho,  spit  and  rouse  its  fires  ! 
Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  for  Deutschland's  old  Professors, 

We're  worthy  of  our  sires  ! 

We're  worthy  of  our  sires  ! 

INVOCATION  TO  PROFESSOR  BOSS,  WHO  FELL  INTO  THE  CRATER  OF  MOUNT  HECLA, 

Oh  what  a  grim  gigantic  tomb  is  thine, 

Immortal  Boss  !     The  sepulchres  which  yawn 

For  the  obscure  remains  of  common  men 

Were  all  unworthy  thee  !     Their  narrow  bounds 

Thou  helclest  in  unutterable  disdain, 

And  soughtest  for  a  grave  amid  the  vaults 

Of  Iceland's  belching,  bellowing,  groaning  Mount. 


62  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

Stupendous  walls  of  flame  surround  thee  now  ; 

Thy  mausoleum  is  a  hell  on  earth, 

Where  spluttering  bursts  of  pandemoniac  fire 

Shake  their  rude  tongues  against  the  vault  of  heaven, 

And  lick  the  stars,  and  singe  the  comet's  tail. 

Peace  to  thine  ashes,  Boss  !     Thy  soul  shall  tower, 
Like  an  inflated  phoenix,  from  the  mouth 
Of  that  infernal  hill,  whose  crater  wide, 
Like  a  vast  trumpet,  shall  thy  praises  sound, 
What  time  its  ashes  rise  beyond  the  moon, 
And  blind  with  clouds  of  dust  the  morning  star. 


o 


And  from  thy  lofty  watch-tower  in  the  sky 
Spitzbergen  thou  shalt  see,  and  Greenland,  where 
The  spermaceti  whale  rolls  floundering  on, 
And  dares  to  combat  the  pugnacious  shark ; 
The  morse,  with  teeth  of  steel  and  snout  of  brass, 
The  mighty  kraken,  and  the  ocean  snake, 
The  salamander,  with  its  soul  of  fire, 
The  mammoth  and  the  mastodon  sublime, — 
Them  shalt  thou  see,  and  with  their  spirits  thou 
Shalt  hold  sweet  converse,  as  they  move  along, 
Shaking  the  curdling  deep  with  shaven  tails, 
And  drowning  Hecla's  thunder  in  their  own. 


*o 


And  from  the  mountain's  bosom  thou  shalt  call 
The  swarthy  Vulcan,  and  his  one-eyed  sons — 
The  Atlantian  Cyclops — to  thine  aid, 
While  thou  assailest  Woden,  Teusco,  Thor, 
And  all  the  Scandinavian  gods  accursed, 
Who  in  Valhalla  hold  their  dreaded  reign. 
And  Vulcan  at  thy  bidding  shall  appear, 
With  Polyphemus  and  his  brethren  vast ; 
And,  armed  with  Jove's  resistless  thunderbolts 
And  Hecla's  flames,  the  huge  monopian  brood 
Shall  rise  with  fury  irresistible, 
And  from  their  gory  seats  of  human  skulls 
Hurl  the  grim  tyrants  down  with  muttering  yell ; 
While  thou  ascendest  the  Valhalla  throne 
And  at  the  prostrate  gods  dost  shake  thy  fist ! 

Immortal  Boss  !  while  seas  of  dark-ribbed  ico 
Lock  the  leviathan  in  their  solid  jaws, 
While  the  substantial  firmament  resounds 
With  yells  and  curses  from  the  frozen  tongues 
Of  shipwrecked  mariners,  thy  sceptre  gaunt 
Shall  thunder  on  the  grim  Icelandic  shore, 
And  loose  the  chains  that  fetter  Nature  round  ! 
Then,  then  shall  Hcchi  sing  aloud  to  thee 


APRIL,  IMS— NOVEMBER,  1836.  63 

A  dread  volcanic  hymn.    His  monstrous  throat, 

In  honour  of  thy  name,  shall  swallow  up 

The  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars  ;  all,  save  thy  throne, 

Shall  be  absorbed  in  that  enormous  maw  ; 

And  ghosts  of  mighty  men  shall  crowd  around 

Thine  ample  table  in  Valhalla  spread 

And  feast  with  thee  ;  the  hippopotamus, 

The  whale,  the  shark,  shall  on  thy  table  lie, 

Cooked  to  thy  taste  before  grim  If  ecla's  fire  ; 

And  all  shall  eat,  and  chaunt  thy  name  and  drink 

Potations  deep  from  Patagonian  skulls. 

My  song  is  done  :  oceans  of  endless  bliss 

Shall  roll  within  thy  kingdom  ;  cataracts 

Of  matchless  eloquence  shall  hymn  thy  praise  ; 

Mountains  of  mighty  song — mightier  by  far 

Than  Hecla,  where  thine  ashes  lie  entombed, 

Shall  lift  their  heads  beyond  the  top  of  space, 

And  prove  thy  deathless  monuments  of  fame  ; 

While  thou  with  kingly,  bland,  benignant  smile, 

Look'st  down  upon  the  earth's  terraqueous  ball, 

And  quell'st  with  thunder  Neptune's  blustering  mood. 


"  March  2nd. — Strange,  marvellous,  and  unintelligible  world  !  My 
brain  gets  dizzy  when  I  allow  myself  to  reflect  upon  the  extraordinary  jour- 
ney we  are  all  pursuing.  I  heard  old  Weimar  tunes  upon  the  piano.  Was 
it  a  dream  ]  am  I  here  1  am  I  the  same  being  1  What  means  this  springing 
into  existence,  the  joys  and  sorrows,  happiness  to  ecstasy,  friendships  formed 
and  decaying,  death  at  the  end  of  all  1  Are  we  mad  ?  Do  our  souls  in- 
habit bodies  which  are  dying  about  us  1  But  I  write  like  a  fool,  for  my 
heart  is  overflowing  with  thoughts  which  I  cannot  utter. 

"  12th  March. — Exactly,  Norman.  You  wrote  the  above  the  other 
night  when  some  old  tunes  roused  up  the  old  man  which  you  thought  was 
dead.     Tell  us  how  he  does  1 

"  Saturday,  April  23. — After  studying  to-day  and  yesterday,  I  have  had 
an  evening  stroll  down  the  street.  The  aurora  was  bright  and  lovely — 
now  forming  an  arch  along  the  sky,  now  shooting  up  like  an  archangel's 
sword  over  the  world,  or  forming  streaming  rays  of  light,  which  the  soul  of 
mortal  might  deem  a  seraph's  crown.  How  strange  are  the  glimpses  which 
we  sometimes  have  of  something  beyond  the  sense — a  strange  feeling,  flit- 
ting as  the  aurora,  but  as  bright,  of  a  spiritual  world,  with  which  our  souls 
seem  longing  to  mingle,  and,  like  a  bird  which,  from  infancy  reared  in  a 
cage,  has  an  instinctive  love  for  scenes  more  congenial  to  its  habits,  and 
flutters  about  when  it  sees  green  woods  and  a  summer  sky,  and  droops  its 
head  when  it  feels  they  are  seen  through  the  bars  of  its  prison  !  But  the 
door  shall  yet  be  opened,  and  the  songs  it  has  learnt  in  confinement  shall 
yet  be  heard  in  the  sunny  sky  ;  and  it  shall  be  joined  by  a  thousand  other 
birds,  and  a  harmonious  song  will  rise  on  high  ! 

"  Oh,  if  we  could  but  keep  the  purity  of  the  soul !  bat  sense  is  the  giant 


64  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

which  fetters  us  and  gains  the  victory.  We  have  dim  perceptions  of  the 
pure  and  elevated  spiritual  world.  We  truly  walk  by  sight,  and  not  by 
faith. 

"  Mere  descriptive  poets  may  be  compared  to  those  who  have  shrewdness 
enough  to  copy  the  best  sets  of  hieroglyphics,  but  who  have  not  skill  enough 
to  give  to  them  more  than  a  partial  interpretation.  They  decipher  enough 
to  know  that  the  writing  has  much  fine  meaning,  which,  as  it  pleases  them- 
selves, may  also  give  pleasure  to  others.  The  reflective  poet  is  one  who  de- 
ciphers the  writing  which  he  copies,  appropriates  its  truth  to  himself,  and 
makes  it  a  part  of  his  own  existence ;  and  when  he  gives  it  to  the  world,  he 
adds  to  it  his  own  glorious  comments  and  illustrations,  and  thus  makes 
others  feel  like  himself.  And  yet  the  highest  and  brightest  world  in  which 
the  poet  exists  cannot  be  shown  to  another.  It  is  incommunicable.  If  in 
his  spirit  he  reaches  the  high  peaks  of  the  Himalaya,  he  can  bring  none 
there  with  him ;  and  should  he  know  there  are  others  there,  the  rarity  of 
the  air  prevents  any  communication. 

"June  6th,  Gourock. — My  journal  has  been  sadly  neglected,  and  that  too 
at  a  time  when  sunshine  and  cloud  have  not  been  unfrequent  in  my  trivial 
history. 

"  I  finished  my  college  labours  by  getting  the  essay  prize — not  much,  in 
truth  ;  but  I  shall  not  venture  to  express  my  little  opinion  of  prizes.  They 
a  test  of  talent  or  labour — bah  !  Last  winter  was,  however,  a  useful  one  to 
me.  How  different  from  the  one  before — hardly  an  ounce  of  the  ideal,  and 
a  ton  of  the  real. 

"After  1st  of  May  I  came  down  here,  where  I  staid  for  a  short  time, 
until  I  went  to  the  Assembly  on  the  1 6th,  when  my  father  was  Moderator. 
When  I  think  of  that  fortnight,  my  head  is  filled  -with  a  confused  mass  of 
speeches,  dinners,  suppers,  breakfasts,  crowded  houses,  familiar  faces,  old 
acquaintances,  and  all  that  makes  an  assemby  interesting  and  tiresome 
to  one  who  is  in  the  middle  of  the  bustle.  I  became  acquainted  with  a 
great  many  people — the  most  interesting  was  Dr.  Cooke,  of  Belfast — a 
splendid  man,  who,  I  think,  beats  Chalmers  in  thinking,  and  equals  him  in 
genius.  The  concluding  scene  of  the  Assembly  is  the  finest  thing  I  ever 
saw — the  whole  clergy  and  people  singing  a  psalm,  and  praying  for  the  peace 
of  Jerusalem  !  Grieved  on  my  return  to  find  poor  Mary  so  unwell :  for  my 
own  part  I  have  little  hope. 

"  To-morrow  I  start  for  the  Highlands,  intending,  God  willing,  to  return 
in  a  month.     Into  Thy  hands  I  commit  myself. 

"  Fiunary,  8th. — The  name,  which  stares  me  in  the  face,  alone  convinces 
me  that  I  am  here.  Against  this  I  have  a  thousand  melancholy  feelings  to 
persuade  me  that  I  am  not.  Yes,  it  is  so  :  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I 
have  walked  up  the  '  brae  face  '  without  a  smile  upon  my  face.  The  past 
was  too  vividly  present — when  a  revered  old  man  was  blessed  in  his  old  age 
by  a  large  and  dear  family — when  my  own  days,  young  though  I  be,  were 
yet  '  clothed  in  no  earthly  light,'  and  had  all  the  '  glory  of  a  dream,'  and 
myself  the  object  of  ;  kind  words,  kind  looks,  and  tender  greetings.' 

"  It  is  a  solemn  thing  when  the  faces  and  voices  of  the  lost  and  gone  are 
vividly  recalled — when  chambers  are  again  peopled  by  their  former  inmates 
— and  when  you  start  to  find  it  all  a  dream; — that  what  was  life  is  now 
death  ! 


APBIL,  1835— NOVEMBER,  183G.  C5 

"  We,  too,  are  passing  on  !  Can  I  forget  this  here  1  Oh,  may  I  be 
enabled,  in  much  weakness  and  sin,  still  to  fight  so  as  to  gain  the  prize  ! 

"  Portree,  2\st  June. — I  have  been  reading  for  three  days  back  Coleridge's 
'Table  Talk,'  and  Byron. 

"What  a  contrast  is  there  between  the  two!  I  pretend  not  to  fathom 
Byron's  character:  it  has  puzzled  wiser  heads  than  mine.  But  how  different 
were  these  men,  as  far  as  their  characters  can  be  gathered  from  their  con- 
versation! Coleridge  ever  struggling  after  truth;  diving  into  every  science, 
and  discovering  affinities  between  them;  holding  communion  ever  with  ideas 
and  principles,  and  caring  for  things  only  as  they  led  to  these;  and,  as  a 
consequence  from  this  pursuit  and  love  of  truth,  a  humble  believing  disciple 
of  Christ.  Byron  viewing  everything  through  his  own  egotism  ;  selfish  in  the 
extreme;  anxious  to  be  the  man  of  fashion,  and  'receiving  his  inspiration 
from  gin  and  water;'  laughing  at  England  and  admiring  Greece;  doubting 
Scripture  and  admiring  Shelley.  Coleridge  wishing  to  publish  his  philosophy 
for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  men;  Byron  writing  his  poetry  'to 
please  the  women.'  In  short,  I  believe,  Byron's  fame  is  on  the  decline. 
His  literature  has  never  sent  a  man  a  mile  on  in  the  mighty  pursuit  after 
truth.     Coleridge  must  live  and  be  beloved  by  all  who  study  him.     He  was 

a  truly  noble  fellow  ! 

***** 

"A  man's  charity  to  those  who  differ  from  him  upon  great  and  difficult 
questions  will  be  in  the  ratio  of  his  own  knowledge  of  them :  the  more  know- 
ledge, the  more  charity. 

***** 

"  The  difference  in  height  between  the  Scotch  and  Swiss  mountains  is  com- 
pensated for  by  the  ever-changing  shape  of  the  former,  arising  from  their 
lowness. 

**  Portree,  Shye,  August,  1836. — Early  in  the  month  of  July  I  went  with 
Professor  Forbes  to  Quirang  and  the  north  end  of  Skye.  My  next  trip  was 
to  StoiT,  the  finest  thing  I  ever  saw.  The  day  promised  well  as  we  ascended, 
but  when  near  the  top,  thick  mist  suddenly  came  on,  which  prevented  us 
from  seeing  a  yard  in  front.  We,  howevei*,  against  hope,  climbed  to  the 
summit.  When  we  arrived,  the  mist,  in  a  thousand  graceful  columns, 
cleared  away,  and  a  thick,  black  curtain,  which  concealed  the  country  from 
our  view,  slowly  rose  and  presented  to  us  a  panorama  such  as  might  put  all 
such  in  Europe  to  shame.  Beneath  us  lay  Skye,  with  its  thousand  sea 
lochs,  bounded  to  the  south  by  the  jagged  Coolins,  between  which  we  got 
peeps  of  the  distant  sea.  On  every  other  side  was  water  calm  as  glass, 
specked  by  ships  in  sunshine,  sailing  far  away.  Along  the  mainland,  from 
Cape  Wrath  to  Kyle  Rhea,  was  a  vast  chain  of  hills,  seen  under  every 
variety  of  light  and  shade,  while  distant  mountain  tops  appear  marching 
towards  Ardnamurchan.  To  the  west  lay  the  Lewis  at  full  length:  a 
gorgeous  canopy  of  clouds  was  piled  over  it.  Rays  of  silver  light  fell  at 
once  on  the  Minch  and  on  the  far-distant  horizon  beyond  Uist,  where  no 
land  breaks  the  vista  to  America.  The  precipice  is  a  thousand  feet  high :  a 
stone  took  nine  seconds  to  reach  the  bottom.  In  fine,  a  large  whale  was 
spouting  in  the  sea  below  us  after  a  herring  shoal. 

"3rd  September. — The  feeling  at  present  next  to  my  heart  is  the  state  of 
poor,  dear  Mary.     Her  hour,  I  see,  is  not  far  distant.     She  knows  this  her- 


66  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD, 

self:  she  expressed  her  fears  perfectly  calmly  to  my  mother,  and  was  thank- 
ful that  she  had  got  so  long  a  time  to  prepare.  Her  patience  is  amazing. 
Oh,  may  God  her  Father,  and  Christ  her  Saviour,  grant  her  peace  and  rest! 

"I  want  steadiness.  O  God,  give  me  consistency  in  words,  in  thoughts; 
in  company;  in  private!  May  I  in  everything  see  what  Thy  law  demands, 
and  may  I  receive  strength  to  obey  it. 

"My  mother  and  aunt  have  both  told  me,  in  strong  language,  that  I  .am 
most  irritable  in  my  temper,  and  very  unpleasant.  My  mother  told  me  more 
than  this,  which  there  is  no  use  putting  down. 

"I  feel  she  is  wrong.  I  am  grieved  for  this  because  it  is  unchristian; 
therefore,  under  the  strength  of  God,  feel  anxious  and  resolved  to — 1.  Be 
always  calm  and  collected,  and  never  talk  impetuously,  and  as  if  out  of 
temper.  2.  To  give  greater  deference  to  my  mother;  to  stop  arguing  with 
her;  and,  however  much  she  mistakes  my  feelings,  still  to  act  as  I  shall  one 
day  answer. 

"  This  I  wish  to  do  under  God's  guidance. 

"  Clerk,  MacConochie  and  Nairne  have  come  as  boarders.  They  are, 
I  think,  three  as  fine  lads  as  ever  I  saw.  Enable  me,  O  God,  to  remember 
that  I  am  responsible  for  sowing  all  the  Gospel  seed  I  can  in  their  minds. 
Amen. 

"  I  am  making  slow  progress  ;  I  am  sadly  behind.  What  signifies  TALK 
if  the  actions  be  awantimi  % 


e 


"  November  3rd. — I  was  this  morning  called  up  at  five  to  go  for  the 
doctor  for  dear  Mary.  She  was  in  great  agony,  such  as  I  never  saw  before. 
The  doctor  gave  her  relief ;  and  she  gently  fell  asleep  in  Christ  at  half  past 
nine  o'clock. 

"  November  9th. — It  is  all  over  :  we  buried  Mary  to-day  beside  James. 
They  both  lie  near  the  home  where  tbey  spenl  many  happy  days  ;  and  we 
laid  them  down,  thank  God,  in  full  fai  th  and  assurance  of  a  blessed  resurrec- 
tion ! 

"  I  have  only  to  pray  God  Almighty,  through  Jesus  Christ,  that  I  may 
not  only  persevere  myself,  but  induce  others  to  persevere  in  the  same  Chris- 
tian course,  that  '  where  they  are  we  may  be  also  1' " 


CHAP  TEH    VI. 

1836—7. 

AT  this  time  the  University  of  Glasgow  attracted  an  unusual 
number  of  students  from  the  east  of  Scotland.  This  was  partly- 
owing  to  the  brilliant  teaching  of  Sir  Daniel  Sanford,  and  of  the  late 
Professor  Kamsay,  and  partly  to  the  wider  influence  which  the  Snell 
exhibitions  to  Oxford  were  beginning  to  exercise.  Norman's  father, 
determining  to  take  advantage  of  this  movement  for  the  increase  of  his 
very  limited  income,  arranged  for  the  reception  cf  one  or  two  young 
men  as  boarders,  whose  parents  were  friends  of  his  own.  He  had  in 
this  way  residing  in  his  house  during  the  winter  of  1836-7  William 
Clerk,  son  of  Sir  George  Clerk,  of  Penicuick,  Henry  MacConochie,  son 
of  Lord  Meadowbank,  and  James  Nairne,  from  Edinburgh.  John  C. 
Shairp,  son  of  Major  Shairp,  of  Hous^oun.now  Principal  of  the  United 
College  in  the  University  of  St.  Andrews,  was  in  like  manner  boarded 
with  Norman's  aunts ;  but  although  residing  under  a  different  roof,  he 
was  in  every  other  respect  one  of  the  party.  Principal  Shairp  gives 
the  following  interesting  reminiscences  of  the  time  : — 

"  Norman  was  then  a  young  divinity  student  and  had  nearly  com- 
pleted his  course  in  Glasgow  Collega.  To  him  his  father  committed 
the  entire  care  of  the  three  young  men  who  lived  in  his  house,  and  it 
was  arranged  that  I,  living  with  his  aunts,  should  be  added  as  a  fourth 
charge.  This  I  look  back  to  as  one  of  the  happiest  things  that  befell 
me  during  all  my  early  life.  Norman  was  then  in  the  very  hey-day  of 
hope,  energy,  and  young  genius.  There  was  not  a  fine  quality  which 
he  afterwards  displayed  which  did  not  then  make  itself  seen  and  felt 
by  his  friends,  and  that  youthfulness  of  spirit,  which  was  to  the  last  so 
delightful,  had  a  peculiar  charm  then,  when  it  was  set  off  by  all  the 
personal  attractions  of  two  or  three-arid-twenty. 

"  His  training  had  not  been  merely  the  ordinary  one  of  a  lad  from  a 
Scotch  Manse,  who  has  attended  classes  in  Glasgow  and  Edinburgh 
Universities.  His  broad  and  sympathetic  spirit  had  a  far  richer  back- 
ground to  draw  upon.  It  was  Morven  and  the  Sound  of  Mull,  the 
legends  of  Skye  and  Dun  vegan,  and  the  shore  of  Kintyre,  that  had  dyed 
the  first  and  inmost  feelings  of  childhood  with  their  deep  colouring. 
Then,  as  boyhood  passed  into  manhood,  came  his  sojourn  among  York- 
shire squires,  his  visit  to  Germany,  and  all  the  stimulating  society  of 
Weimar,  on  which  still  rested  the  spirit  oi  the  lately-departed  Goethe. 
All  these  things,  so  unlike  the  common-place  experience  of  many,  had 


6S  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

added  to  his  nature  a  variety  and  compass  which  seemed  wonderful, 
compared  with  that  of  most  young  men  around  him.  Child  of  nature 
as  he  was,  this  variety  of  experience  had  stimulated  and  enlarged  na- 
ture in  him,  not  overlaid  it. 

"  There  were  many  bonds  of  sympathy  between  us  to  begin  with. 
First,  there  was  his  purely  Highland  and  Celtic  blood  and  up-bringing; 
and  I,  both  from  my  mother's  and  paternal  grandmother's  side,  had 
Celtic  blood.  The  shores  of  Argyllshire  were  common  ground  to  us. 
The  same  places  and  the  same  people — many  of  them — were  familiar 
to  his  childhood  and  to  mine.  And  he  and  his  father  and  mother  used 
to  stimulate  my  love  for  that  western  land  by  endless  stories,  legends, 
histories,  jests,  allusions,  brought  from  thence.  It  was  to  him,  as  to  me, 
the  region  of  poetry,  of  romance,  adventure,  mystery,  gladness,  and 
sadness  infinite.  Here  was  a  great  background  of  common  interest 
which  made  us  feel  as  old  friends  at  first  sight.  Indeed,  I  never  re- 
member the  time  when  I  felt  the  least  a  stranger  to  Norman.  Second- 
ly, besides  this,  I  soon  found  that  our  likings  for  the  poets  were  the 
same.  Especially  were  we  at  one  in  our  common  devotion  to  one,  to 
us  the  chief  of  poets. 

"I  well  remember  those  first  evenings  we  used  to  spend  together  in 
Glasgow.  I  went  to  No.  9,  Bath  Street — oftener  Norman  would  come 
•over  to  my  room  to  look  after  my  studies.  I  was  attending  Professor 
Buchanan's  class — 'Bob,'  as  we  then  irreverently  called  him — and 
Norman  came  to  see  how  I  had  taken  my  logic  notes  and  prepared  my 
essay,  or  other  work  for  next  day.  After  a  short  time  spent  in  looking 
•over  the  notes  of  lecture,  or  the  essay,  Norman  would  say,  '  I  see  you 
understand  all  about  it ;  come  let's  turn  to  Billy.'  That  was  his  fam- 
iliar name  for  Wordsworth,  the  poet  of  his  soul. 

"  Before  coming  to  Glasgow  1  had  come  upon  Wordsworth,  and  in 
large  measure  taken  him  to  heart.  Norman  had  for  some  years  done 
the  same.  Our  sympathy  in  this  became  an  immense  bond  of  union. 
The  admiration  and  study  of  Wordsworth  were  not  then  what  they 
afterwards  became — a  part  of  the  discipline  of  every  educated  man. 
Those  who  really  cared  for  him  in  Scotland  might,  I  believe,  have  then 
"been  counted  by  units.  Not  a  professor  in  Glasgow  University  at  that 
time  ever  alluded  to  him.  Those,  therefore,  who  read  him  in  solitude, 
if  they  met  another  to  whom  they  could  open  their  mind  on  the  sub- 
ject, were  bound  to  each  other  by  a  very  inward  chord  of  sympathy. 
I  wish  1  could  recall  what  we  then  felt  as  on  those  evenings  we  read 
or  chaunted  the  great  lines  we  already  knew,  or  shouted  for  joy  at 
coming  on  some  new  passage  which  was  a  delightful  surprise.  Often 
as  we  walked  out  on  winter  nights  to  college,  for  some  meeting  of  the 
Peel  Club,  or  other  excitement,  he  would  look  up  into  the  clear  moon- 
light and  repeat — 

"  The  moon  doth  with  delight 
Look  round  her  when  the  heavens  are  bare  ; 
Waters  on  a  starry  night 
Are  beautiful  and  fair. " 


1836—7.  69 

Numbers  of  the  finest  passages  we  had  by  heart,  and  would  repeat  to 
each  other  endlessly.  I  verily  believe  that  Wordsworth  did  more  for 
Norman,  penetrated  more  deeply  and  vitally  into  him,  purifying  and 
elevating  his  thoughts  and  feelings  at  their  fountain-head,  than  any 
other  voice  of  uninspired  man,  living  or  dead.  Second  only  to  Words- 
worth, Coleridge  was,  of  modern  poets,  our  great  favourite.  Those 
poems  of  his,  and  special  passages,  which  have  since  become  familiar 
to  all,  were  then  little  known  in  Scotland,  and  had  to  us  all  the  charm 
of  a  newly  discovered  country.  We  began  then,  too,  to  have  dealings 
with  his  philosophy,  which  we  found  much  more  to  our  mind  than  the 
authorities  then  in  vogue  in  Glasgow  College — the  prosaic  Eeid  and 
the  long-winded  Thomas  Brown. 

"  Long  years  afterwards,  whenever  I  took  up  a  Scotch  newspaper,  if 
my  eye  fell  on  a  quotation  from  Wordsworth  or  Coleridge,  '  Here's 
Norman'  I  would  say,  and  on  looking  more  carefully,  I  would  be  sure 
to  find  that  it  was  he — quoting  in  one  of  his  speeches  some  of  the 
favourite  lines  of  Glasgow  days.  Norman  was  not  much  of  a  classical 
scholar;  Homer,  Virgil,  and  the  rest,  were  not  much  to  him.  But  I 
often  thought  that  if  he  had  known  them  ever  so  well,  in  a  scholarly 
way,  they  never  would  have  done  for  him  what  Wordsworth  did,  would 
never  have  so  entered  into  his  secret  being  and  become  a  part  of  his 
very  self.  Besides  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge,  there  were  two  other 
poets  who  were  continually  on  his  lips.  Goethe  was  then  much  to 
him ;  for  he  was  bound  up  in  all  his  recent  Weimar  reminiscences ; 
but  I  think  that,  as  life  went  on,  Goethe,  with  his  artistic  isolation, 
grew  less  and  less  to  him.  Shakespeare,  on  the  other  hand,  then  was, 
and  always  continued  to  be,  an  unfailing  resource.  Many  of  the 
characters  he  used  to  read  and  dilate  upon  with  wonderfully  realising 
power.  Falstaff  was  especially  dear  to  him.  He  read  Falstaff's 
speeches,  or  rather,  acted  them,  as  I  have  never  heard  any  other  man 
do.  He  entered  into  the  very  heart  of  the  character,  and  reproduced 
the  fat  old  man's  humour  to  the  very  life. 

"  These  early  sympathies,  no  doubt,  made  our  friendship  more  rapid 
aud  deep.  But  it  did  not  need  any  such  bonds  to  make  a  young  man 
take  at  once  to  Norman.  To  see  him,  hear  him,  converse  with  him, 
was  enough.  He  was  then  overflowing  with  generous,  ardent,  conta- 
gious impulse.  Brimful  of  imagination,  sympathy,  buoyancy,  humour, 
drollery,  and  affectionateness.  I  never  knew  any  one  who  contained  in 
himself  so  lar^e  and  varied  an  armful  of  the  humanities.  Himself  a 
very  child  of  Nature,  he  touched  Nature  and  human  life  at  every  point. 

"  There  was  nothing  human  that  was  without  interest  for  him ; 
nothing  great  or  noble  to  which  his  heart  did  not  leap  up  instinctively. 

"  In  those  days,  what  Hazlitt  says  of  Coleridge  was  true  of  him,^ '  He 
talked  on  for  ever,  and  you  wished  to  hear  him  talk  on  for  ever.'  £ince 
that  day  I  have  met  and  known  intimately  a  good  many  men  more  or 
less  remarkable  and  original.  Some  of  them  were  stronger  on  this 
one  side,  some  on  that,  than  Norman  ;  but  not  one  of  all  contained  in 


70  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

himself  such  a  variety  of  gifts  and  qualities,  such  elasticity,  such 
boundless  fertility  of  pure  nature,  apart  from  all  he  got  from  books  or 
culture. 

"  On  his  intellectual  side,  imagination  and  humour  were  his  strongest 
qualities,  both  of  them  working  on  a  broad  base  of  strong  common 
sense  and  knowledge  of  human  nature.  On  the  moral  side,  sympathy, 
intense  sympathy,  with  all  humanity  was  the  most  manifest,  with  a 
fine  aspiration  that  hated  the  mean  and  the  selfish,  and  went  out  to 
whatever  things  were  most  worthy  of  a  man's  love.  Deep  affection- 
ateness  to  family  and  friends — affection  that  could  not  bear  coldness 
or  stiff  reserve,  but  longed  to  love  and  to  be  loved,  and  if  there  was  in 
it  a  touch  of  the  old  Highland  clannishness,  one  did  not  like  it  the  less 
for  that. 

"  His  appearance  as  he  then  was  is  somewhat  difficult  to  recall,  as 
the  image  of  it  mingles  with  what  he  was  when  we  last  saw  his  face, 
worn  and  lined  with  care,  labour,  and  sickness.  He  was  stout  for  a 
man  so  young,  or  rather  I  should  say  only  robust,  yet  vigorous  and 
active  in  figure.  His  face  as  full  of  meaning  as  any  face  I  ever  looked 
on,  with  a  fine  health  in  his  cheeks,  as  of  the  heather  bloom ;  his 
broad,  not  high,  brow  smooth  without  a  wrinkle,  and  his  mouth  firm 
and  expressive,  without  those  lines  and  wreaths  it  afterwards  had : 
his  dark  brown,  glossy  hair  in  masses  over  his  brow.  Altogether  he 
was,  though  not  so  handsome  a  man  as  his  father  at  his  age  must  have 
been,  yet  a  face  and  figure  as  expressive  of  genius,  strength,  and 
buoyancy  as  I  ever  looked  upon.  Boundless  healthfulness  and  hope- 
fulness looked  out  from  every  feature. 

"  It  was  only  a  few  weeks  after  my  first  meeting  with  Norman  that 
he,  while  still  a  student,  made  his  first  public  appearance.  This  was 
at  the  famous  Peel  Banquet  held  in  Glasgow  in  January,  1837, 

•''The  students  of  the  University,  after  rejecting  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
and  choosing  a  succession  of  Whig  Rectors,  had  now,  very  much 
through  Norman's  influence,  been  brought  to  a  better  mind,  and  had 
elected  the  great  Conservative  leader.  He  came  down  and  gave  his 
well-known  address  to  the  students  in  the  Hall  of  the  now  vanished 
college.  But  more  memorable  still  was  the  speech  which  he  delivered 
at  the  Banquet  given  to  him  by  the  citizens  of  Glasgow  and  the  in- 
habitants of  the  west  of  Scotland.  It  was  a  great  gathering.  I  know 
not  if  any  gathering  equal  to  it  has  since  taken  place  in  Glasgow.  It 
marked  the  rallying  of  the  Conservative  party  after  their  discomfiture 
by  the  Reform  BiU  of  1832. 

"  Peel,  in  a  speech  of  between  two  and  three  hours'  length,  ex- 
pounded, not  only  to  Glasgow,  but  to  the  empire,  his  whole  view  of  the 
political  situation  and  his  own  future  policy.  It  was  a  memorable 
speech,  I  believe,  though  I  was  too  much  of  a  boy  either  to  know  or 
care  much  about  it.  Many  other  good  speeches  were  that  night  de- 
livered, and  among  them  a  very  felicitous  acknowledgment  07  Dr. 
Macleod,  of  St.  Columba,  of  the  toast  'The  Church  of  Scotland.'     But 


1836—7.  71 

all  who  still  remember  that  night  will  recall  as  not  the  least  striking 
event  of  the  evening  the  way  in  which  Norman  returned  thanks  for  the 
toast  of  the  students  of  Glasgow  University.  I  think  I  can  see  him 
now,  standing  forth  prominently,  conspicuous  to  the  whole  vast  assem- 
blage, his  dark  hair,  glossy  as  a  black-cock's  wing,  massed  over  his  fore- 
head, the  'purple  hue'  of  youth  on  his  cheek.  They  said  he  trembled 
inwardly,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  tremor  or  nervousness  in  his  look. 
As  if  roused  by  the  sight  of  the  great  multitude  gazing  on  him,  he  stood 
forth,  sympathizing  himself  with  all  who  listened,  and  confident  that 
they  sympathized  with  him  and  with  those  for  whom  he  spoke.  His 
speech  was  short,  plain,  natural,  modest,  with  no  attempt  to  say  fine 
things.  Full  of  good  sense  and  good  taste,  every  word  was  to  the  point, 
every  sentence  went  home.  Many  another  might  have  written  as  good 
a  speech,  but  I  doubt  whether  any  young  man  then  in  Scotland  could 
have  spoken  it  so  well.  From  his  countenance,  bearing,  and  rich,  sweet 
voice,  the  words  took  another  meaning  to  the  ear  than  they  had  when 
read  by  the  eye.  Peel  himself,  a  man  not  too  easily  moved,  was  said 
to  have  been  greatly  impressed  by  the  young  man's  utterance,  and  to 
have  spoken  of  it  to  his  father.  And  well  he  might  be.  Of  all  Nor- 
man's subsequent  speeches — on  platform,  in  pulpit,  in  banquet,  and  in 
assembly — no  one  was  more  entirely  successful  than  that  first  simple 
speech  at  the  Peel  Banquet. 

"During  the  session  that  followed  the  Banquet,  the  Peel  Club,  which 
had  been  raised  among  the  students  to  carry  Peel's  election,  and  to 
perpetuate  his  then  principles,  was  in  full  swing,  and  Norman  was  the 
soul  of  it.  Many  an  evening  I  went  to  its  meetings  in  college,  not 
as  caring  for  its  dry  minutes  of  business,  but  to  hear  the  hearty  and 
heart-stirring  impromptu  addresses  with  which  Norman  animated  all 
that  had  else  been  commonplace.  There  are  not  many  remaining  who 
shared  those  evenings,  and  those  who  do  remain  are  widely  scattered ; 
but  they  must  look  back  to  them  as  among  the  most  vivid  and  high- 
spirited  meetings  they  ever  took  part  in.  What  a  contrast  to  the  dull 
routine  of  meetings  they  have  since  had  to  submit  to!  And  the  thing 
that  made  them  so  different,  was  Norman's  presence  there. 

"  But  if  these  first  public  appearances  were  brilliant,  still  more  de- 
lightful was  private  intercourse  with  him  as  he  bore  himself  in  his 
home.  His  father  had  such  entire  confidence  in  him,  not  unmingled 
with  fatherly  pride,  that  he  entrusted  everything  to  him.  The  three 
boarders  were  entirely  under  Norman's  care,  and  he  so  dealt  with 
them  that  the  tutor  or  teacher  entirely  disappeared  in  the  friend  and 
elder  brother  of  all,  and  of  each  individually.  Each  had  a  bedroom  to 
himself,  in  which  his  studies  were  carried  on  ;  but  all  met  in  a  common 
sitting-room,  which  Norman  named  '  The  Coffee-room.'  There,  when 
college  work  was  over,  sometimes  before  it  was  over,  or  even  well- 
begun,  we  would  gather  round  him,  and  with  story,  joke,  song, 
readings  from  some  favourite  author — Sir  Thomas  Browne's  '  Beligio 
Medici,'  Jeremy  Taylor — or  some  recitation  of  poetry,  he  would  make 
our  hearts  leap  up. 


72  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  What  evenings  I  have  seen  in  that  '  coffee-room  !'  Norman,  in  the 
grey-blue  duffle  dressing-gown,  in  which  he  then  studied,  with  smok- 
ing-cap  on  his  head,  coming  forth  from  his  own  reading-den  to  refresh 
himself  and  cheer  us  by  a  brief  bright  quarter  of  an  hour's  talk.  He 
was  the  centre  of  that  small  circle,  and  whenever  he  appeared,  even  if 
there  was  dulness  before,  life  and  joy  broke  forth.  At  the  close  of  the 
first  session — I  speak  of  1836-37 — the  party  that  gathered  in  the 
coffee-room  changed.  MacConochie  and  Nairne  went,  and  did  net  re- 
turn ;  William  Clerk  remained ;  and  the  vacant  places  were  at  the  begin- 
ning of  next  session,  1837-38,  filled  by  three  new  comers — Robert 
(now  Sir  Robert)  Dalyell,  of  Binns ;  James  Home ;  and  John 
Mackintosh,  the  youngest  son  of  Mackintosh  of  Geddes.  There  were 
also  two  or  three  other  students  who  boarded  elsewhere,  but  who  were 
often  admitted  as  visitors  to  the  joyous  gatherings  in  the  coffee-room. 
Among  these  was  Henry  A.  Douglas,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Bombay 
While  all  these  young  friends  so  loved  and  admired  Norman  that  it 
would  be  hard  to  say  who  did  so  most — a  love  which  he  seemed  to  re- 
turn almost  equally  to  all — John  Mackintosh  was  no  doubt  the  one 
who  laid  the  deepest  hold  on  his  heart.  They  were  fitted  each  to  be 
the  complement  of  the  other.  The  serious,  devout,  pure  nature  of 
John  Mackintosh  drew  forth  from  Norman  reverence  more  than  an 
elder  usually  accords  to  a  younger  friend ;  on  the  other  hand,  Norman's 
deep  and  manly  love  of  goodness  and  holiness  won  John's  confidence, 
while  his  hopeful  aspiration  and  joyousness  did  much  to  temper  the 
tone  of  John's  piety,  which  verged  somewhat  on  austerity.  I  believe 
that  their  characters,  so  different,  yet  so  adapted  to  respond  to  each 
other,  were  both  of  them  much  benefited  by  the  friendship  then  begun. 

"  John  Mackintosh  had  at  that  time  another  friend,  who  was  also 
his  tutor,  William  Burns,  who  soon  became  the  great  revival  preacher, 
and  afterwards  the  missionary  to  China.  Between  Norman  and 
William  Burns,  John  used  to  live  half-way  in  spirit.  But  I  don't 
think  that  Norman  and  Burns  ever  knew  each  other  intimately. 
Norman's  mirth  seemed  to  Burns  profanity,  and  Burns'  rapt  Calvinistic 
piety,  that  looked  on  laughter  as  sinful,  seemed  to  Norman  somewhat 
too  severe.  In  fact  they  were  not  then  fitted  to  understand  each  other. 
It  was  in  this  session  of  1837-38  that  the  friendship  of  Norman  with 
John,  so  fruitful  in  results  to  both,  first  began.  He  himself  was  then 
not  a  student,  as  he  had  received  license  in  May,  1837,  and  was 
ordained  in  Loudoun  in  March,  1838;  but  until  he  settled  in  his 
parish  he  continued  under  his  father's  roof,  and  in  the  same  relationship 
as  formerly  with  the  young  men  who  wintered  there.  The  Church 
was  then  being  greatly  exercised  by  those  contentions  which  ended 
four  years  afterwards  in  the  Disruption.  Norman  took  a  lively  interest 
in  these ;  but  from  the  first,  both  from  temperament  and  family  tradi- 
tion, sided  with  the  party  who  opposed  the  Non-Intrusion ists.  Not 
that  Norman  was  in  any  measure  fitted  by  nature  to  be  a  Moderate  of 
the  accepted  type.     His  ardent  and  enthusiastic  temperament  could 


183G— 7.  73 

never  heave  allowed  him  to  belong  to  the  party.  But  in  the  aims  and 
contendings  of  the  Veto  men,  he  seemed  from  the  first  to  discern  the 
presence  of  sacerdotal  pretensions  which  he  his  whole  life  long  sto  utly 
withstood. 

"Before  the  close  of  the  session  of  1837-38,  Norman  was  appointed 
to  the  parish  of  Loudoun,  in  Ayrshire,  and  ordained  as  its  minister. 
When  the  close  of  our  next  and  last  session  in  Glasgow  (1838-9) 
arrived,  he  arranged  that  his  old  friends  of  the  coffee-room  should  go- 
down  and  pay  him  a  visit  in  his  Manse  at  Loudoun  on  the  first  of  May. 
The  usual  winding-up  of  the  college  had  taken  place  in  the  morning, 
and  by  the  afternoon  a  merry  party  were  seated  on  the  top  of  the  Ayr- 
shire coach,  making  their  way  through  the  pleasant  country  of  Mearns, 
in  Ayrshire,  towards  their  friend's  Manse.  That  party  consisted  of 
William  Clerk,  Eobert  Dalyell,  Henry  Douglas,  and  myself.  For  some 
reason  or  other,  which  I  cannot  now  remember,  John  Mackintosh  could 
not  join  the  party.  It  was  a  beautiful  spring  evening,  and  the  green 
burnbraes,  as  we  wound  along,  laughed  on  us  with  their  galaxies  of  prim- 
roses. You  may  imagine  what  a  welcome  we  received  when  at  even- 
ing we  reached  the  Manse  door.  We  staid  there  three  days,  or  four. 
The  weather  was  spring-like  and  delightful.  We  wandered  by  the  side 
of  the  Irvine  Water,  and  under  the  woods,  all  about  Loudoun  Castle, 
and  Norman  was,  as  of  old,  the  soul  of  the  party.  He  recurred  to  his  old 
Glasgow  stories,  or  told  us  new  ones  derived  from  his  brief  experienc-3 
of  the  Ayrshire  people,  in  whom,  and  in  their  characters,  he  was  already 
deeply  interested.  All  day  Ave  spent  out  of  doors,  and  as  we  lay, 
in  that  balmy  weather,  on  the  banks  or  under  the  shade  of  the  newly 
budding  trees,  converse  more  hearty  it  would  be  impossible  to  conceive. 
And  yet,  there  was  beneath  it  an  undertone  of  sadness  ;  for  we  fore- 
boded too  surely  what  actually  has  been  fulfilled,  that  it  was  our  last. 
meeting ;  that  they  who  met  there  should  never  again  all  meet  to- 
gether on  earth.  There  were,  with  the  host,  five  in  that  Loudoun  party. 
I  do  not  think  that  more  than  two  of  them  have  since  met  at  one  time. 

"  On  the  last  day  of  our  wanderings,  Norman,  who  had  hitherto  kept 
np  our  spirits  and  never  allowed  a  word  of  sadness  to  mar  the  mirth,, 
at  last  said  suddenly,  as  we  were  reclining  in  one  of  the  Loudoun 
Castle  woods,  'Now,  friends,  this  is  the  last  time  we  shall  all  meet- 
together;  I  know  that  welL  Let  us  have  a  memorial  of  our  meeting. 
Yonder  are  a  number  of  primrose  bushes.  Each  of  you  take  up  one 
root  with  his  own  hands ;  I  will  do  the  same,  and  we  shall  plant  them 
at  the  Manse  in  remembrance  of  this  day.'  So  we  each  did,  and 
carried  home  each  his  own  primrose  bush.  When  we  reached  the 
Manse,  Norman  chose  a  place  where  we  should  plant  them  side  by 
side.*  It  was  all  simple  and  natural,  yet  a  pathetic  and  memorable 
close  of  that  delightful  early  time. 

*  When  Norman  left  Loudoun,  he  transplanted  some  of  these  primrose  roots,  and 
put  them  opposite  his  study  windows  at  Dalkeith.  The  Loudoun  Manse  jonquils  and 
favourite  little  'rose  de  Meaux'  were  also  transplanted  to  Dalkeith,  to  revive  the 
sams  memories  there  as  at  Loudoun. 


74  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

"Early  next  morning  we  all  left  the  Manse,  and,  I  believe,  not  one 
of  us  ever  returned.  It  was  as  Norman  said.  We  went  our  several 
ways — one  to  Cambridge,  two  to  Oxford;  but  never  again  did  more 
than  two  of  us  forgather. 

"  Two  things  strike  me  especially  in  looking  back  on  Norman  as  lie 
then  was.  The  first  was,  his  joyousness — the  exuberance  of  his  joy — 
joy  combined  with  purity  of  heart.  We  had  never  before  known  any 
one  who  took  a  serious  view  of  life,  and  was  really  religious,  who  com- 
bined with  it  so  much  hearty  hopefulness.  He  was  happy  in  himself, 
and  made  all  others  happy  with  whom  he  had  to  do.  At  least  they 
must  have  been  very  morose  persons  indeed  who  were  insensible  to 
the  contagion  of  his  gladness. 

"  The  second  was  the  power,  and  vividness,  and  activity  of  his 
imagination.  He  was  at  that  time  'of  imagination  all  compact.'  I 
have  since  that  time  known  several  men  whom  the  world  has  regarded 
as  poets ;  but  I  never  knew  any  one  who  contained  in  himself  so  large 
a  mass  of  the  pure  ore  of  poetry.  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  he  had 
then  imagination  enough  to  have  furnished  forth  half-a-dozen  poets. 
Wordsworth's  saying  is  well  known — 

"  '  Oh,  many  are  the  poets  that  are  sown 

By  nature  :  men  endowed  with  highest  gifts, 

The  vision  and  the  faculty  divine, 

Yet  wanting  the  accomplishment  of  verse.'  " 

Coleridge,  I  think,  has  questioned  this.  But  if  Wordsworth's  words 
are,  as  I  believe  they  are,  true,  then  Norman  was  pre-eminently  a 
poet.  He  had  the  innate  power,  but  he  wanted  the  outward  accom- 
plishment of  verse.  Not  that  he  wanted  it  altogether  ;  but  he  had  not 
in  early  youth  cultivated  it,  and  when  manhood  came,  the  press  of 
other  and  more  practical  duties  never  left  him  time  to  do  more  than 
dash  off  a  verse  or  two,  as  it  rose,  spontaneously,  to  his  lips.  Had  he 
had  the  time  and  the  will  to  devote  himself  to  poetry  with  that  devo- 
tion which  alone  ensures  success,  it  was  in  him,  I  believe,  to  have  been 
one  of  the  highest  poets  of  our  time.  Often  during  an  evening  in  his 
study,  or  in  a  summer  day's  saunter  with  him  by  a  Highland  loch,  I 
have  heard  him  pour  forth  the  substance  of  what  might  have  been 
made  a  great  original  creation — thoughts,  images,  descriptions,  ranging 
through  all  the  scale,  from  the  sublime  to  the  humourous  and  the  droll ; 
which,  if  gathered  up,  and  put  into  the  outward  shape  of  poetry,  would 
have  been  a  noble  poem.  But  he  felt  that  he  was  called  to  do  other 
work,  and  it  was  well  that  he  obeyed  the  call  as  he  did,  and  cast  back 
no  regretful  look  to  the  poetry  that  he  might  have  created." 

It  may  be  well  here  to  explain  a  feature  which,  as  expressed  in  his 
journals,  may  appear  strange  to  the  reader,  but  is  quite  characteristic 
of  the  man.  There  is  often  such  a  rapid  passing  from  "grave"  to 
"  gay,"  and,  in  his  earlier  years,  such  self-reproach  for  indulging  in 
things  really  innocent,  that,  in  giving  perfectly  faithful  extracts,  it  has 
been  found  difficult  to  avoid  conveying  an  impression  of  harshness  or 


1836—7.  75 

unreality.  There  was  nothing  more  natural  to  him  than  so  to  combine 
all  tones  of  feeling,  that  those  who  knew  him  felt  no  abrupt  contrast 
between  the  mirthful  and  the  solemn.  But,  as  it  might  be  expected 
from  his  sensitive  conscientiousness,  he  did  not  at  first  recognize 
the  lawfulness  of  many  things  he  afterwards  "allowed  himself"  with- 
out any  sense  of  inconsistency.  It  is  accordingly  interesting,  bio- 
graphically,  to  notice  the  difference  betwixt  his  youth  and  age  in 
matters  like  these,  as  well  as  the  change  which  his  opinions  under- 
went on  many  political  and  theological  subjects. 


From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Nov.  17th. — This  last  week  being  the  one  for  electing  a  Lord  E-ector,  I 
was  very  busy,  having  been  the  leader  of  the  Peel  party.  We  carried  him 
by  a  majority  of  one  hundred.  This  caused  me  much  excitement,  and  drew 
my  mind  away  from  God. 

"  Sunday,  30th  Nov. — I  intend  by  the  grace  of  God  to  throw  off  my 
natural  indolence,  and  rise  every  morning  this  whiter  at  six  o'clock.  I 
study  Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Church  history  every  morning  before  breakfast ; 
chemistry,  anatomy,  and  natural  history  (my  favourite  study  next  to  di- 
vinity) during  the  day;  logic,  theology,  reading,  and  writing  in  the 
evening. 

"  Is  a  Christian  not  entitled  to  draw  lessons  of  conduct  from  natural 
religion  interpreted  by  revealed  1  May  he  not  study  the  final  causes  in  his 
moral  constitution  1  What  then  is  the  final  cause  of  the  sense  of  the 
ludicrous  ? 

"  Saturday,  3\st  Dec,  1836. — The  passing  of  time  is  enough  to  make  a 
man  '  tremble  like  a  guilty  tiling.'  I  feel  as  if  I  could  compress  what  re- 
mains of  the  last  year  into  the  thoughts  of  an  hour. 

"  And,  then,  what  reminiscences  of  the  past  !  This  moment  they  are  all 
gay  in  Weimar !  I  see  them  all.  The  thought  is  only  momentary,  and 
shines  in  my  mind  like  the  last  rays  of  an  extinguished  taper. 

"  Yes,  I  am  changed.     I  have  felt  the  transition.     I  know  it. 

"  The  ideality  of  life  soon  vanishes,  and  can  only  be  renewed  when  new 
channels  are  formed  for  our  affections.  But  why  do  we  not  fix  them  on 
unfading  objects  1 

"  March  5th. — What  a  gap !  It  is  shameful.  At  a  time,  too,  when 
circumstances  have  occurred  which,  I  am  convinced,  must  influence  my  life 
in  no  small  degree. 

"  When  Peel  came  down  there  were  great  doings.  I  spoke  for  th  e 
students  at  his  dinner,  and  though  I  felt  considerably  in  addressing  three 
thousand  five  hundred  people,  yet,  from  the  manner  in  which  I  was  sup- 
ported, I  got  on  well,  and  met  with  Peel's  decided  approbation.  I  have 
had  the  honour  also  of  being  elected  President  of  the  Peel  Club.  Because 
ox  these  and  other  things,  I  have  fallen  fearfully  through  with  my  studies, 
although  my  having  had  no  small  part  in  bringing  Peel  here  is  enough  to 
give  some  value  to  my  existence. 

"Friday. — I  have  just  returned  from  Robert  Dalglish's  ball  ! — a  crowd. 
I  have  returned  sick  at  heart.     It  is  my  last  ball !     And  I  heard  the  Ger- 


76  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

man  waltzes  played,  and  my  brain  reeled.  I  shut  my  eyes.  I  was  once 
more  with  all  my  old  Weimar  friends ;  when  I  opened  them,  the  faces  were 
the  faces  of  strangers,  and  I  could  stand  it  no  longer,  but  left  at  twelve. 
I  alone  seemed  sad.  The  louder  and  more  cheerful  the  music  grew,  the 
more  deeply  melancholy  I  became. 

"Sunday,  1th  May,  1837.— How  life  gallops!  What  changes !  How 
we  do  hurry  along  from  the  days  of  childhood  to  wild  and  imaginative  youth, 
and  then  gradually  sober  down  to  sedate  manhood  !  Only  look  at  the  last 
page — music  and  dancing  ! — and  this  page  has  to  record  the  most  solemn 
event  in  my  '  little  history  '—that  upon  Wednesday  last  I  was  made  a 
preacher  of  the  gospel,  and  to-day  I  preached  my  first  sermon  ! 

"  This  is  a  niche,  a  point,  in  a  man's  life.  It  marks  the  past  and  future. 
I  only  wish  I  could  write  my  real  state  of  mind  about  it ! 

"  The  goodness  of  God  has  been  great,  very  great.  If  it  were  not  for  His 
great  love,  I  could  not  stand  a  minute.  But  my  own  state  has  had  this 
good  effect,  that  it  has  made  me  distrust  myself  and  rely  more  on  Christ. 
I  have  got  a  most  irritable  temper.  I  have  got  a  loose  way  of  talking  and 
of  using  slang  words,  most  unbecoming  my  profession.  I  feel  a  much 
greater  willingness  to  overcome  this  habit  since  I  have  entered  the  clerical 

office. 

"  I  went  to  church  to-day  with  much  prayer,  and  I  was  wonderfully 
supported.  I  praise  the  Lord  for  it.  I  pray,  for  Christ's  sake,  that  I  may 
be  enabled  to  perform  my  most  arduous  duties  looking  to  Jesus.  O  God  in 
heaven,  keep  me  from  courting  popularity  !  May  I  feel  deeply,  most 
deeply,  that  I  am  Thy  servant,  doing  Thy  will,  and  not  seeking  my  own 
pleasure.     May  I  never  teach  the  people  a  lie,  but  teach  them  Thy  truth!" 

To  his  Aunt,  Mks.  Maxwell  :—  _ 

"  May  8,  1837. 

"  Does  the  quality  of  a  correspondent  improve  by  age  like  port  wine  or 
Highland  whiskey  1  Do  his  goods  rise  in  value  the  more  rare  they  become? 
Or&«loes  the  value  of  a  gift  increase  with  the  dignity  of  the  donor  1  If  you 
reply  in  the  affirmative  to  these  queries,  then  one  of  my  letters  now  is 
more  to  be  esteemed  than  twenty  heretofore,  for  I  am  older,  my  goods  are 
rarer,  and  my  dignity  is  increased ;  for  on  Wednesday  I  passed  gallantly 
from  the  student  state  to  that  of  a  preacher,  and  yesterday  I  ascended  from 
the  body  of  the  church  to  its  heart— even  to  the  pulpit!  Aye,  Jane,  don't 
be  horrified  at  seeing  a  grey  hair  or  two  !  The  thumping  child  has  grown 
into  a  thumping  preacher,  and  you  may  soon  have  to  submit  quietly  to  be 
scolded  by  him  whom  you  used  to  drill  into  manners  and  morals.  'Ochone!' 
as  Coll  would  say,  but  we  do  gallop  down,  or  it  may  be  up,  with  railway 
speed  !  I  am  actually  beginning  to  get  a  glimpse  at  age  myself.  I  do  not, 
however,  as  yet  recognize  him  by  his  snowy  locks  and  tottering  steps,  but 
by  his  gaiters  and  white  neckcloth.  I  always  had  a  horror — I  know  not 
why — at  the  transition  state  of  preacher.  He  is  worse  than  nobody.  He 
is  patronised  by  old  maids,  '  the  dear,  good  old  souls ;'  he  is  avoided  by  the 
young  ladies,  for  they  know  that  he  has  no  principle  and  would  jilt  when 
convenient.  He  is  cut  by  theyouug  men  for  his  snobbish  dress ;  he  is  cut 
by  the  old,  for  they  know  he  will  bore  them  for  their  interest.  Young 
ministers  dislike  him   from   pride  ('  set  a  beggar,'  &c),  and  the  old  dislike 


1836—7.  77 

Lim  from  fear;  they  hate  his  voice  as  they  hate  the  cry  of  an  owl,  for  'it 
speaks  of  death  ;'  thoy  look  upon  him  as  a  young  soldier  looks  on  a  vulture 
that  is  watching  his  last  breath  in  order  to  get  a  living.  He  is  a  xory 
nightmare  to  the  Manse — '  a  lad '  is  the  personification  of  all  that  is  dis- 
agreeable.    Such  a  being  am  I,  Jane ;  will  you  shelter  me  1 

"  It  is  too  bad  to  occupy  so  much  room  with  so  much  nonsense.  I  got 
on  well  yesterday,  and  now  that  the  ice  is  broken,  I  hope  to  get  on  still 
better.  I  am  to  preach  next  Sunday  in  the  Barony  ;  I  then  go  to  tlie 
Assembly,  and  then  I  wish  to  go  to  Skye. 

"  Glen  Morriston,  Wednesday,  18th  July,  1837,  Torgoil  Inn. —  [On  a 
walking  tour  to  Skye.]  I  have  said  it  often,  and  now  again  I  say  it  in 
Torgoil,  that  I  hate  travelling  by  myself !  I  think  I  should  become  a  mere 
animal  if  I  were  thus  to  be  stalking  about  for  a  year  and  not  a  soul  to 
speak  to.  Don't  talk  about  reflection — one  has  too  much  of  it.  The  whole 
day  it  is  a  continued  reflection  upon  one's  self — when  to  rest,  when  to  rise, 
how  far  it  is  to  the  inn,  what  shall  be  taken,  how  much  paid.  And 
as  for  thought,  why  a  wrallet  and  blistered  feet  are  enough  to  crush  it. 
Here  am  I  this  very  moment  in  a  small,  paltry  place,  in  the  midst  of  a 
huge  glen,  the  rain  pouring  in  torrents  and  the  mountains  covered  with  the 
wet  mist ;  the  trees  dripping,  the  burn  roaring,  sheep-dogs  crawling  past 
the  door,  hens  in  the  entry,  and  barefooted  and  bare-legged  boys  skelping 
through  the  mud.  And  within  nothing  to  cheer.  In  the  first  place  a  huge 
birch-bush  in  the  grate,  by  way  of  a  novelty,  half-a-dozen  chairs  stuck  up 
like  sentinels  against  the  wall,  a  stiff,  ugly  table,  with  a  screen  and  a  tea- 
tray  having  landscapes  and  figures  upon  them,  which,  to  say  the  least,  do 
not  equal  those  of  Claude  Lorraine  ;  you  pull  the  bell,  away  comes  a  yard 
of  wire,  but  no  bell  rings ;  you  strike  the  table,  and  every  dog  rushes  out 
barking  ;  you  call  the  girl,  and  she  appears  from  the  '  but,'  and  does  what 
you  bid  her  do,  but  only  when  she  pleases.  But  I  must  go  back  on  my 
previous  route.  (I  just  now  lifted  the  window  to  look  out,  and  was  nearly 
guillotined  by  its  coming  down  on  my  neck,  not  having  observed  a  huge 
black  peat  which  lies  beside  it  for  supporting  it  on  great  occasions.) 

"Retrospective.  I  believe  I  never  wrote  the  reason  of  my  refusing  to  be- 
come a  candidate  for  Anderston  Church,  Glasgow.  I  was  requested  earnestly 
by  one  of  the  managers  (Stuart)  to  apply,  and  he  had  been  written  to  by 
others  who  had  heard  me  preach  in  Gourock.  I  promised  to  preach,  but 
declined  becoming  a  candidate  upon  the  acknowledged  ground  of  unfitness. 
I  consider  that  the  town  clergy  should  be  our  bishops.  They  must  be  the 
leaders  of  the  church  in  public  matters,  whether  in  regard  to  the  internal 
government  of  the  Church,  or  its  relation  to  the  State.  How  much  know- 
ledge is  required  to  do  this  properly,  and  as  it  ought  to  be  done,  by  men 
who  profess  to  act  from  principle,  how  much  scientific  reading  on  Church 
polity  and  history!  The  personal  acquirements  which  a  clergyman  requires 
to  fit  him  for  such  a  public  appearance,  and  also  for  occupying  that  com- 
manding position  in  private  which  he  ought  to  take,  are  such  as  no  young 
man  can  have  when  his  time  is  occupied,  as  ib  must  be  in  town,  by  other 
weighty  matters  still  more  intimately  connected  with  his  profession — as,  for 
instance,  preaching.  His  audience  is  in  general  very  select,  well  informed, 
and  though  the  truths  enforced  arc  the  same  both  in  town  and  country,  yet 
how  diuerent  are  the  media oi  communication!     This  abominable  custom  or 


78  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

necessity  of  letting  seats,  and  thence  paying  the  minister,  compels  him  to 
attend  to  this  taste,  however  vitiated ;  and  I  feel  convinced  that  it  never  was 
more  vitiated  than  at  present,  owing  perhaps  to  the  system  of  competition 
in  Scotland,  both  for  pulpits  and  for  churches,  and  against  the  dissenters. 
But  the  fact  is,  that  effort,  and  froth,  and  turgidity,  and  an  attempt  after 
grand  generalisations,  are  required  to  gain  popularity — the  ruling  object  of 
the  mass. 

"Nay,  this  emptiness  of  thought  combined  with  high  swelling  words  arises 
from  another  cause — the  necessity  under  which  men  are  laid  to  preach  not 
only  two,  but  sometimes  three  sermons  every  Sunday,  without  their  heads 
being  so  filled  with  divinity  or  their  hearts  with  Christian  experience,  as  to 
enable  them  to  give  solid  teaching  to  their  people.  Now  these  and  many 
other  difficulties  are  removed  by  having  a  country  church.  For  my  own 
part,  the  fever  and  excitement  of  composing  for  a  town  chaige  would  atfii-st 
kill  me;  but  let  me  only  have  ten  years'  hard  study  in  the  country,  and  then, 
under  God's  blessing,  I  may  come  into  a  town  with  advantage  to  the  cause ! 

"Aug.  25th. — Oil' to  the  hills!  Oh,  what  a  walk  I  had  yesterday !  Never 
will  I  forget  the  green,  the  deep  green  grassy  top  of  the  range  of  precipices. 
A  vessel  or  two  lay  like  boys'  boats  on  the  water  far  below  me  as  I  sat  on 
the  edge  of  the  precipice,  watching  the  waves  breaking  on  the  rocks.  A 
white  sail  or  two  was  seen  far  to  the  north  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon  like 
a  sea-gull.  I  never  felt  more  in  my  life  the  stillness  of  the  air,  broken  only 
by  the  bleat  of  the  sheep,  or  the  croak  of  the  raven.  The  majesty  of  the 
prospect,  the  'solitude  of  the  place,  filled  me  with  inexpressible  delight. 
The  truth  was,  I  had  started  with  depressed  feelings  from  having  been  very 
forgetful  of  God;  and  upon  the  top  of  a  mountain  I  have  always  felt  my 
self  subdued  to  silent  meditation  and  prayer.  On  the  present  occasion  I 
poured  out  my  soul  in  humble  confession  and  adoration,  and  words  cannot 
tell  the  comfort  which  I  felt,  partly  perhaps  the  result  of  the  strong  feeling 
I  was  under,  but  much  of  it  truly  substantial.  Thrice  did  I  sing  the 
hundredth  Psalm,  and  at  the  second  verse,  'Know  that  the  Lord  is  God  in- 
deed, without  our  aid  He  did  us  make,'  I  was  quite  overpowered,  and  felt 
as  if  I  spoke  for  the  material  universe  and  dumb  creatures  around  me.  The 
giant  Storr,  with  its  huge  isolated  peak,  seemed  to  point  to  heaven  in  ac 
knowledgment  of  the  truth. 

"  I  felt  as  if  I  had  one  of  those 

"  '  Visitations  from  the  living  God, 

In  which  my  soul  was  filled  with  light, 
With  glory,  with  magnificenee.' 

"  Slst,  Twelve,  night. — Loveliness  and  beaiity  !  The  stars  twinkling  in 
the  deep  blue  sky  like  the  most  brilliant  diamonds,  the  hills  dark  and  misty 
in  the  distance  !  The  rivulets,  inaudible  by  daylight,  blending  their  notes 
with  the  loud  streams,  and  along  the  north  a  magnificent  aurora  borcalis, 
an  object  which  ever  fills  me  with  intcnsest  pleasure.  It  makes  me  feci  how 
much  man's  nature  is  capable  of  feeling,  and  how  the  soul  may  be  elevated 
or  overpowered  through  the  external  senses.  How  different  was  the  last 
night  I  was  here — Friday  night !  What  an  awful  gale  !  Whuss-ss-sh-hoo- 
hiss-sooo  !  until  I  thought  the  house  would  be  down.  Three  bouts  were 
lost  and  live  people.  One  of  them  the  last  of  four  sons  belonging  to  a  widow 
in  Strath.      Another  was  drowned  hist  year  at  the  canal. 


183G— 7  79 

"Sept.  1st. — I  have  this  day  been  led  to  consider  seriously  my  spiritual 
state,  and  truly,  when  I  remember  my  advantages  and  all  God  has  done  for 
me,  I  can  say  that  it  is  very  deplorable.  There  are  certain  daily  habits 
which  for  some  weeks  I  have  seen  are  wrong,  yet  where  have  been  my 
struggles  to  change  them  1  How  have  I  shown  my  faith  by  my  works  1 
How  frivolous  have  I  been  !  My  love  of  the  ludicrous  and  of  the  absurd  has 
daily  carried  me  away  and  made  me  behave  quite  unworthy  of  the  sobriety 
necessary  for  every  Christian,  far  more,  for  my  calling.  'Be  ye  sober.' 
Lord  !  help  me  to  keep  this  law. 

"  Yet  I  thank  God  that  I  am  anxious — yes,  in  roy  heart  I  say  it — anxious 
to  give  up  my  besetting  sins. 

"  O  Lord  God  Almighty,  Thou  who  art  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold 
iniquity,  most  holy  and  most  merciful  Father,  Thou  seest  these  my  confessions, 
Thou  knowest  whether  they  are  sincere,  Thou  knowest  the  pride  and  vile- 
ness  of  my  heart.  Oh,  do  Thou  have  mercy  upon  me  according  to  Thy 
loving-kindness,  and  according  to  Thy  tender  mercies  blot  out  my  trans- 
gressions. Grant  unto  me  greater  diligence  in  using  the  means  of  grace, 
and  power  to  resist  temptation.  May  I  enter  not  into  temptation.  Keep 
me,  0  God,  from  rejoicing  in  anything  which  belongs  to  myself;  but  may 
every  evidence  of  Thy  love  lead  me  to  rejoice  in  Thee  alone. 

"  /September  6th. — By  the  grace  of  God  I  have  been  enabled  to  wait  upon 
Him,  and  seek  Him  more  than  I  was  wont.  It  is  an  awful  mistake  to 
think  that  when  we  conquer  a  sin  it  is  beaten  for  ever.  It  is  indeed  invin- 
cible— we  can  only  keep  it  from  conquering  us,  and  so  overcome  it.  I  must 
be  regular  in  the  diligent  use  of  means,  and  God  may  bless  them ;  but  I 
must  also  push  on  and  add  one  virtue  to  another. 

"  I  find  that  my  interest  in  the  state  of  others  is  in  proportion  as  I  am 
interested  in  my  own. 

"  Yesterday,  the  5th,  I  had  "one  of  the  most  delightful  excursions  I 
ever  had. 

"  The  morning  was  beautiful :  indeed  it  was  not  morning  when  I  rose 
from  a  feverish  and  night-marish  sleep.  A  few  pale  stars  were  to  be  seen  in 
the  sky,  and  the  ruddy  glow  in  the  east  which  told  of  the  sun's  approach 
soon  robbed  them  even  of  this ;  and,  except  towards  the  east,  I  could  see  no 
cloud  in  the  sky.  A  few  light,  airy  wreaths  of  mist  hung  on  the  Coolins, 
which,  dark  and  massive  and  ragged,  stretched  like  a  strong  saw  across  the 
south.  We  were  quickly  on  our  way,  after  partaking  of  a  substantial  break- 
fast and  providing  for  the  dinner.  Soon  the  east  became  most  beautiful- — 
clouds,  fringed  with  brightest  gold  feathery  borders,  and  in  more  compact 
masses,  gathered  round  the  sun  a  flaming  retinue ;  and  soon  he  opened  an 
eye  in  heaven  and  peeped  over  the  eastern  hills  and  thrust  forth  his  '  golden 
horns.'  And  the  tops  of  the  Coolins  seemed  tipped  with  gold,  and  the 
shadows  became  more  distinct,  and  light  glittered  on  the  calru  sea.  The 
vessels  that  lay  under  the  rocks  were  hardly  visible,  while  their  masts  and 
tackling  were  in  clear  relief  against  the  burning  sky  and  water.  The  effect 
was  precisely  such  as  I  have  often  adroi/ed  in  the  '  Morning '  pictures  of 
Claude  Lorraine. 

"  Away  we  went,  and  as  the  sun  got  higher  and  higher  we  left  the  high 
road  and  entered  Glen  Sligachan.  What  a  glen  !  With  the  inimitable  peak 
of  Coolin  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  the  sugar-loafed  Marscow. 


80  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

"But  get  on!  at  three  miles  an  hour,  hardly  a  path,  and  now  in  the 
centre  of  the  glen,  five  miles  from  any  house.  Stand  !  and  say  what  is 
Glencoe  to  this !  A  low  range  conceals  Coolin ;  but  see  the  high  peaks 
appearing  beyond,  and  up  that  corry  what  a  mighty  wall  of  jagged  peaks  is 
spread  along  its  top !  But  Blabheinn,  which  is  close  by,  is  unsurpassed. 
It  appears  a  great  trap  dyke,  about  a  thousand  feet  high,  with  an  edge 
above,  cut  and  hacked  in  every  shape  and  form.  Bare,  black  to  the  top, 
apparently  not  a  goat  could  stand  on  a  yard  of  it — I  question  if  a  fly  could. 
And  there  the  lovely  little  lake  at  its  feet  is  ever  condemned  to  lie  in  its 
shadow.  But,  having  left  our  horses  at  Cambusiunary,  we  ascended  by  a 
rough  road  to  a  pass,  fi-om  which  we  obtained  a  view  of  Coruisk.  The 
ascent  was  difficult.  Wilson  being  a  bad  walker,  I  was  up  nearly  half  an 
hour  before  him — besides,  I  wished  to  behold  Coruisk  alone ;  and  as  I 
ascended  the  last  few  blocks  of  stone  which  intercepted  my  view  I  felt  my 
heart  beat  and  mv  breathing  become  thicker  than  when  I  was  climbing — 
for  I  had  rested  before  in  order  to  enjoy  the  burst  undisturbed — and  a 
solemn  feeling  crept  over  me  as  I  leapt  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  there 
burst  upon  my  sight — shall  I  attempt  to  describe  it]  How  dare  I]  Around 
me  were  vast  masses  of  hypersthene,  and  the  ridge  on  which  I  stood  was 
so  broken  and  precipitous  that  I  could  not  follow  its  descent  to  the  valley. 
At  my  feet  lay  the  lake,  silent  and  dark,  and  round  it  a  vast  amphitheatre 
of  precipices.  The  whole  Coolins  seemed  gathered  in  a  semi-circle  round 
the  lake,  and  from  their  summits  to  their  base  not  a  blade  of  verdure — but 
one  bare,  black  precipice,  cut  into  dark  chasms  by  innumerable  torrents,  and 
having  their  bases  covered  by  debris  and  fallen  rocks.  Nothing  could  ex- 
ceed the  infinite  variety  of  outline — peaks,  points,  teeth,  pillars,  rocks, 
ridges,  edges,  steps  of  stairs,  niches — utter  wildness  and  sterility.  From 
this  range  there  are  gigantic  projections  standing  out  and  connected  with 
the  main  body.  And  there  lay  the  lake,  a  part  hidden  from  our  view,  be- 
hind a  huge  rock. 

"  There  it  lay,  still  and  calm,  its  green  island  like  a  green  monster  floating 
on  its  surface.  I  sat  and  gazed  ;  '  my  spirit  drank  the  spectacle.'  I  never 
felt  the  same  feeling  of  the  horribly  wild — no,  never ;  not  even  in  the 
Tyrolese  Alps.  There  was  nothing  here  to  speak  of  life  or  human  existence. 
'  I  held  my  breath  to  listen  for  a  sound,  but  everything  was  hushed ;  it 
seemed  abandoned  to  the  spirit  of  solitude.'  A  few  wreaths  of  mist  began 
to  creep  along  the  rocks  like  ghosts.  Laugh  at  superstition  for  coupling 
-such  scenes  with  witches  and  water  kelpies  !  I  declare  I  felt  superstitious 
in  daylight  there.  Oh,  to  see  it  in  a  storm,  with  the  clouds  under  the  spur 
of  a  hurricane,  raking  the  mountain  summit ! 

'  '  The  giant  snouted  crags  ho  !  ho  ! 
How  they  snort  and  how  they  blow  1 

"  '  Ach,  die  langen  Felsennasen 

Wie  sie  schnarchen,  wie  sie  blasen|!' 

"I  shall  never  forget  my  visit!  It  will  fill  the  silent  eye — the  bliss  of 
solitude  ;  it  will  come  '  about  the  beating  of  my  heart,'  and  its  wild  rocks 
may  be  connected  with  moral  feeling  and  'tranquil  restoration.'  'The  tall 
rock'  may  cease  'to  haunt  me  like  a  passion,'  but  its  influence  shall  never 
die.     And  the  joyous,  oh  !  the  passionate,  hours  I  have  spent  this  summer 


183C— 7.  81 

in  the  lovely  mountains  in  Skye  will  ever  influence  my  feelings,  and,  under 
the  guidance  of  higher  principles,  they  may,  I  trust,  he  Messed  for  good, 
and  help  in  heing  the  '  muses  of  my  moral  being.'  I  thank — as  on  the 
mountains  I  generally  do — I  thank  God  for  all  His  kindness,  and  pray  I 
may  ever  be  grateful  for  it. 

"  Thursday  night,  Sept.  1th. — To-morrow  I  start,  D.V.,  for  Fiunary.  My 
time  here  has  been  spent  delightfully — though  not  so  usefully  as  it  might 
have  been.  My  journal  will  tell  what  hours  of  joy  I  have  spent  among  the 
mountains.     Never  shall  they  be  forgotten. 

"  How  dreary  is  parting — what  a  sickness  at  the  heart !  how  melancholy 
sounds  that  wind  !     Oh,  what  a  joy  when  there  will  be  no  parting  ! 

" Fiunary,  Wth  Sept. — I  left  Portree  early  on  Tuesday  morning.  The 
fiery  sunrise,  the  huge  masses  of  greenish-greyish-darkish  clouds,  the 
scattered  catspaws  and  mai-e's  tails,  the  rising  breeze,  and  the  magnificent 
rainbows  which  spanned  sea  and  mount  xins,  all  told  that  our  passage  would 
probably  be  a  rough  one.  And  so  it  was.  The  wind  rapidly  increased, 
until,  as  we  left  the  shelter  of  the  land  at  Armadale  it  blew  a  stiff  breeze 
right  ahead.  What  a  striking  view  had  we  to  leeward  when  plunging  on 
towards  the  point  of  Ardnamurchan  !  The  sun  was  almost  setting,  '  the 
day  was  well-nigh  done,'  and  along  the  horizon  was  a  plain  of  red  light  ; 
this  was  broken  by  the  Scuir  of  Eig,  which  appeared  in  magnificent  relief, 
and  seemed  to  support  on  its  summit  the  midnight  belt  of  clouds  which 
formed  an  upper  and  parallel  stratum  to  the  ruddy  belt  below.  Through 
these  dark  clouds  the  sun  was  shooting  silver  beams,  beneath  which  the 
waves  were  seen  holding  their  'joyous  dance'  along  the  line  of  the  horizon. 
I  remained  on  deck  until  we  reached  Tobermory.  I  lay  on  the  tarpaulin, 
and,  half-asleep,  watched  the  mast  of  the  steamer  wandering  along  the  stars 
which  now  shone  in  unclouded  brilliancy. 

"  Yesterday  preached  at  Kiel.*  It  was  a  strange  thing  to  preach  there! 
As  I  went  to  the  church  hardly  a  stone  or  knoll  but  spoke  of  '  something 
which  was  gone,'  and  past  days  crowded  upon  me  like  the  ghosts  of  Ossian, 
and  seemed,  like  them,  to  ride  even  on  the  passing  wind  and  along  the 
mountain  tops.  And  then  to  preach  in  the  same  pulpit  where  once  stood 
a  reverend  grandfather  and  father  !  What  a  marvellous,  mysterious  world 
is  this,  that  I,  in  this  pulpit,  the  third  generation,  should  now,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  be  keeping  the  truth  alive  on  the  earth,  and  telling  how  faithfuC 
has  been  the  God  of  our  fathers  !  How  few  faces  around  me  did  I  recognize  ! 
In  that  seat  once  sat  familiar  faces — the  faces  of  a  happy  family ;  they  are 
all  now,  a  few  paces  off,  in  a  quiet  grave.  How  soon  shall  their  ever  having 
existed  be  unknown  1     And  it  shall  be  so  with  myself. 

'  "  Oct.  3rd,  Glasgow,  night. — Here  I  am  once  more  in  my  old  study.  Was 
it  a  dream  1  Nature  never  appeared  more  lovely  ;  never  in  youth  did  1 
hail  her  with  more  rapture — never  did  I  feel  '  the  tall  rock  haunt  me  more 
like  a  passion.' 

"  Nov.  3rd. — I  have  got  the  parish  of  Loudoun.  Eternal  God  I  thank 
Thee  through  Jesus  Christ,  and,  under  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  I 
devote  myself  to  Thy  service  for  the  advancement  of  Thy  glory  and  king- 
dom. 

"Th;se  words  I  write  this  day  the  moment  I  hear  of  my  appointment. 

•  The  name  of  one  of  the  parish  churches  of  Morven. 

6 


82  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

I  again  solemnly  say,  Amen.  I  have  got  a  parish  !  the  guidance  of  souls  to 
heaven  !  I  shall  at  the  last  day  have  to  tell  how  I  performed  my  duties — 
part  of  my  flock  will  go  to  the  left ;  part,  I  trust,  to  the  right.  I,  their 
pastor,  shall  see  this  !  I  am  set  to  gather  lambs  to  Christ.  What  a  re- 
sponsibility !  I  do  not  feel  it  half  enough  ;  but  I  pray  with  all  my  soul, 
heart,  and  strength  that  the  Great  Shepherd  may  never  forsake  me.  With- 
out Him  I  can  do  nothing ;  with  him  I  can  do  all  things. 

"  Oh,  my  Father,  my  kind  and  merciful  Father.  Thou  who  art  my 
Creator  and  Preserver  and  Redeemer,  I  this  day,  before  Thee,  declare  my 
willingness  to  make  my  soul  and  parish  part  of  Thy  everlasting  kingdom. 
Accept  of  my  deepest  thanks  for  Thy  kindness  until  now.  Father,  Son, 
and  Holy  Ghost  be  with  me  until  the  day  of  my  death  ;  purify,  strengthen 
me,  and  give  me  from  the  infinite  riches  of  Thy  grace  power  to  be  a  faithful 
minister  and  to  turn  many  people  from  darkness  to  light.  Into  Thy  hand 
I  commit  my  soul ! 

"  I  had  an  address,  a  kind  address,  from  Darvel,  in  Loudoun,  to-day, 
which  gave  me  much  encouragement.  I  feel  an  affection  for  the  parish 
already.  May  the  Lord  grant  in  His  mercy  that  I  may  go  for  the  promot- 
ing of  His  glory." 


CHAPTER    VII. 

EARLY   MINISTRY  IN   LOUDOUN. 

OUDOUN'S  bonny  woods  and  braes,"  among  which  he  was  to 

I  1  spend  the  next  live  years  of  his  life,  stretch  in  picturesque 
variety  for  about  six  miles  along  the  banks  of  the  Irvine  Water.  At 
the  lower  end  of  the  parish  the  towers  of  Loudoun  Castle  peer  over  the 
thick  foliage  of  the  surrounding  park,  while  at  the  other  extreme  Lou- 
doun hill,  rising  in  bold  solitude  like  another  Ailsa  Craig,  closes  in  the 
rich  valley,  and.  separates  it  from  the  dreary  moor  of  Drumclog. 

On  the  recommendation  of  Dr.  Chalmers,  Norman  Macleod  was 
asked  to  preach  at  Loudoun  during  the  vacancy  caused  by  the  death 
of  the  previous  minister,  and  the  Dowager  Marchioness  of  Hastings, 
widow  of  the  celebrated  Governor-General  of  India,  who  was  then 
patron  of  the  parish,  resolved,  after  very  careful  deliberation,  to  present 
him  to  the  living.  He  was  accordingly  ordained  as  its  minister  on  the 
15th  March,  1838,  and  entered  on  his  new  duties  with  a  humble  and 
resolute  heart. 

He  was  but  a  short  time  in  the  parish  before  he  saw  that  he  had 
difficult  work  before  him.  The  population  numbered  upwards  of  four 
thousand,  of  whom  a  small  proportion  were  farmers  and  farm-workers, 
and  the  rest  hand-loom  weavers  residing  in  the  large  villages  of  New- 
milns  and  Darvel.  Both  farmers  and  weavers  were  of  a  most  interest- 
ing type.  Not  a  few  of  the  former  were  Covenanters,  and  some  were 
on  lands  which  had  been  tenanted  by  their  families  since  the  twelfth 
century.  The  traditions  of  Drumclog  and  Bothwell  Brig  were  still 
freshly  repeated  at  their  firesides,  and  swords  and  pistols  that  had  done 
service  against  Claverhouse  were  their  treasured  heir-looms.  The  wea- 
vers w7ere  of  a  totally  different  stamp,  being  keen  politicians,  and  as  a 
rule,  advanced  radicals.  Their  trade  was  being  gradually  extinguished 
by  the  great  factories,  and  the  men  were  consequently  poor;  but  they 
were  full  of  enthusiasm,  fond  of  reading,  and  had  that  quaint  intelligence, 
strongly  coloured  with  self-conceit,  which  was  characteristic  of  the  old 
race  of  Scotch  webstcrs.  Most  of  them  were  keen  Chartists,  some  vio- 
lent infidels,  who,  with  Tom  Paine  as  their  text-book,  were  ready  for 
argument  on  any  question  of  Church  or  State.  The  morality  of  the 
parish  was  at  the  same  time  very  low,  and  vital  godliness  was  a  rarity. 

While  living  in  lodgings  at  Newmilns  till  his  Manse  should  be  ready 


84  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MAC  LEO  11 

for  his  reception,  he  was  shocked  by  the  amount  of  profanity  and 
coarseness  which  met  eye  and  ear,  as  well  as  surprised  at  the  keen 
interest  taken  by  the  people  in  public  questions.  Political  debate 
seemed  to  be  carried  on  at  every  corner.  The  groups  gathered  here 
and  there  in  the  street,  or  the  crowds  clustered  on  the  "  Green  "  round 
a  tree,  under  whose  branches  a  village  demagogue  was  haranguing 
about  the  Charter  or  the  Corn  Laws,  displayed  an  excitement  which  is 
usually  reserved  for  a  parliamentary  election.  There  was  something 
hopeful,  however,  in  all  this  life  and  stir,  which,  notwithstanding  its 
association  with  scepticism  and  religious  indifference,  did  not  fail  to 
impress  his  mind. 

The  work  in  which  he  first  engaged  was  careful  house  to  house 
visitation,  recording  as  he  went  along  the  circumstances  of  every 
family  with  great  minuteness,  and  his  impressions  of  individual  char- 
acter. He  at  the  same  time  opened  classes  and  organized  a  Sabbath 
school ;  and  in  order  to  meet  the  case  of  those  who  excused  them- 
selves from  going  to  church  at  the  ordinary  hour  of  worship  on  account 
of  having  no  suitable  clothing,  he  commenced  special  evening  ser- 
vices. He  made  also  a  determined  stand  for  the  strict  exercise  of 
church  discipline,  believing  that,  if  good  for  nothing  else,  it  would  at 
all  events  serve  to  raise  the  tone  of  public  opinion  as  to  the  character 
of  certain  sins  which  were  too  lightly  regarded. 

This  energetic  action  of  the  young  minister  excited  at  once  hearty 
sympathy  and  hearty  opposition.  The  church  was  crowded,  and  he- 
was  soon  encouraged  by  learning  that  his  labours  were  not  without 
effect.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Chartists  were  not  a  little  suspicious 
of  the  growing  influence  of  the  "  Tory  "  clergyman — -although  he 
meddled  little  with  politics — and  the  semi-infidels  were  thoroughly 
roused  into  opposition.  Some  of  the  most  violent  of  these  two  parties 
would  have  put  an  end,  if  they  could,  to  his  evening  services,  and  at- 
tended them  for  the  purpose  of  creating  disturbance.  One  Sunday  he- 
bore  with  the  interruption  they  gave  him  ;  on  the  next  he  remonstrated  ; 
but  this  failing,  he  turned  to  the  people  who  had  come  to  hear  him — 
told  them  that  he  had  undertaken  extra  labour  for  their  benefit,  and 
added,  that  if  they  wished  him  to  go  on  they  must  expel  those  who 
disturbed  him.  He  then  sat  down  in  the  pulpit.  After  a  pause,  a 
number  of  men  rose,  and  ejected  the  intruders.  This  firmness  served 
greatly  to  strengthen  his  influence  in  the  parish :  those  who  had  scoffed 
loudest  came  to  appreciate  his  earnestness,  and  not  a  few  sceptics 
were  among  the  most  sincere  of  his  converts.  Among  other  means 
employed  by  him  for  reaching  the  more  intelligent  of  the  would-be 
philosophers,  who  stood  aloof  from  Christianity,  he  brought  his  pre- 
vious study  of  natural  science  into  requisition,  and  gave  a  series  of 
lectures  on  geology,  which  by  their  eloquence,  as  well  as  by  the 
amount  of  well-digested  information  they  contained,  told  with  great 
effect.  In  this  manner  he  gradually  became  master  of  a  difficult 
position,  and  won  an  enthusiastic  attachment  from  the  parishioners 
which  has  never  declined. 


EARLY  MINISTRY   IN  LOUDOUN.  85 

There  were  two  dissenting  churches  in  the  parish,  with  whose  ex- 
cellent ministers,  Mr.  Brace  and  Mr.  Rogerson,  he  maintained  a  life- 
long friendship.  One  of  these  congregations  met  at  Darvel  and  con- 
sisted of  Covenanters  avowing  a  refreshingly  stern  morality,  and  com- 
bining with  it  articles  of  faith,  especially  in  reference  to  the  observance 
of  the  Sabbath,  as  quaint  as  they  are  now  rare.  He  had  thus  extremes, 
from  Covenanter  to  Chartist,  to  deal  with  ;  and  between  the  two  many 
amusing  phases  of  character  presented  themselves  to  his  observation. 
On  his  first  "  diet  of  visitation  "  at  Darvel,  he  called  on  an  old  pauper 
woman  who  was  looked  upon  as  a  great  light  among  the  Covenanters. 
When  he  entered  the  house  he  found  her  grasping  her  tin  ear-trumpet 
(for  she  was  very  deaf,)  and  seated  formally  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of 
neighbours  and  co-religionists  summoned  to  meet  him.  Unlike  his 
other  parishioners  she  did  not  at  first  acknowledge  him  as  minister, 
but,  beckoning  him  to  sit  down  beside  her,  and  putting  the  trumpet  to 
her  ear,  said,  "  Gang  ower  the  fundamentals  !"  and  there  and  then  he 
had  to  bawl  his  theology  till  the  old  dame  was  satisfied,  after  which 
he  received  a  hearty  welcome  as  a  true  ambassador  of  Christ. 

In  contrast  with  this  type  of  parishioner,  he  used  to  refer  to  a  well- 
known  Chartist,  who  lived  in  the  usual  little  cottage  consisting  of  a  but 
containing  the  loom,  and  of  a  hen  containing  the  wife.  Met  at  the 
door  of  this  man's  cottage,  by  the  proposal,  that  before  proceeding 
further  they  should  come  to  an  understanding  upon  the  "  seven  points," 
he  agreed  to  this  only  on  condition  that  the  pastoral  visit  should  first 
be  received.  Minister  and  Chartist  then  sat  down  on  the  bench  in 
front  of  the  door,  and  the  weaver,  with  shirt-sleeves  partly  turned  up 
and  showing  holes  at  the  elbows,  his  apron  rolled  round  his  waist,  and 
a  large  tin  snuff-mull  in  his  hand,  into  whose  extreme  depth  lu  was 
continually  diving  for  an  emphatic  pinch,  propounded  with  much 
pompous  phraseology  his  favourite  political  dogmas.  When  he 
had  concluded,  he  turned  to  the  minister  and  demanded  an  answer. 
"In  my  opinion,"  was  the  reply,  "your  principles  would  drive  the 
country  into  revolution,  and  create  in  the  long-run  national  bank- 
ruptcy." "Nay — tion — al  bankruptcy!"  said  the  old  man  medita- 
tively, and  diving  for  a  pinch.  "Diy — ye — think — sae  ?"  Then, 
briskly,  after  a  long  snuff,  "  Dod  !  I'd  risk  it !"  The  naivete  of  this 
philosopher,  who  had  scarcely  a  sixpence  to  lose,  "risking"  the  nation 
for  the  sake  of  his  theory,  was  never  forgotten  by  his  companion. 

About  this  time  a  Universalist,  noted  for  his  argumentativeness, 
resolved  to  heckle  the  young  minister.  Macleod  first  questioned  him 
on  the  precise  nature  of  his  belief  in  universal  salvation.  "  Do  you 
really  assert  that  every  person,  good  and  bad,  is  saved,  and  that,  how- 
ever wicked  they  may  have  been  on  earth,  all  are  at  once,  when  they 
die,  received  into  glory  ?"  "  Most  certainly,"  replied  the  man.  "  A 
great  and  merciful  Father  must  forgive  every  sinner.  He  is  too  good 
not  to  make  all  His  creatures  happy."  "  Then  why  do  you  not  cut 
your  throat  ?"     "Cut  my  throat!"  exclaimed  his  astonished  visitor, 


86  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  I  have  duties  to  fulfil  in  the  world."  "  Certainly  ;  but  it  seems  to 
me  that  if  your  views  are  right,  your  highest  duty  is  to  send  every  one 
to  heaven  as  fast  as  possible.  On  your  principles  every  doctor  should 
be  put  in  jail,  and  the  murderer  honoured  as  a  benefactor."  The  effect 
of  this  argumentum  ad  absurdum  was  not  only  to  convince  the  man  of 
the  extravagance  of  his  beliefs,  but  to  lead  him  shortly  afterwards  to 
become  a  communicant. 

His  frank,  manly  bearing,  his  devotion  to  his  work,  and  his  tact  and 
skill  in  dealing  with  every  variety  of  character,  rendered  his  personal 
influence  as  powerful  as  his  pupil  teaching.  Yet  the  work  seemed  for 
a  long  time  weary  and  disappointing.  He  often  returned  to  the  Manse 
so  utterly  cast  clown  by  the  conviction  that  he  was  doing  no  good,  that 
he  would  talk  of  giving  up  a  profession  for  which  he  did  not  seem  fit. 
It  was  only  when  he  was  about  to  leave  the  parish  that  he  fully  saw 
how  mistaken  he  had  been  in  his  estimate  of  himself.  The  outburst  ot 
feeling  from  many  of  those  whom  he  had  looked  upon  as  utterly  in- 
different, and  the  thanks  heaped  upon  him  for  the  good  he  had  done, 
surprised  and  humbled  him.  It  was  not  till  the  last  week,  not  almost 
till  the  last  Sabbath  of  his  ministry  in  Loudoun,  that  he  was  in  the 
least  aware  of  the  extent  to  which  his  work  had  prospered. 

With  several  families  in  the  neighbourhood  he  enjoyed  the  most 
friendly  intercourse.  Among  these  were  the  Craufurds  of  Craufurdland 
and  the  Browns  of  Lanfine ;  but  the  home  which,  for  many  reasons, 
afforded  him  some  of  his  happiest,  as  well  as  most  trying,  hours  was 
Loudoun  Castle.  Nothing  could  have  exceeded  the  confidence  which 
the  venerable  Countess  of  Loudoun  and  her  daughters,  the  Ladies 
Sophia*  and  Adelaide  Hastings,  placed  in  him.  They  not  only 
honoured  him  with  their  friendship  and  brightened  his  life  by 
letting  him  share  the  society  of  the  interesting  people  who  visited  the 
castle,  but  they  also  accorded  him  the  privilege  of  being  of  use  and 
comfort  to  them  in  many  trying  hours  in  their  family  history. 

His  domestic  life  at  this  time  was  of  the  freshest.  His  Manse  was 
pitched  on  the  summit  of  a  wooded  brae,  beneath  which  ran  the  public 
road,  and  behind  it  lay  the  glebe,  with  a  sweet  burn  forming  a  seques- 
tered and  lovely  hough.  His  natural  taste  for  flowers  ripened  here 
into  a  passion,  which  was  in  no  small  degree  inflamed  by  an  enthusiastic 
gardener,  whose  hobby  was  pansies  and  dahlias.  Often  on  a  summer 
morning,  early  as  the  song  of  the  lark,  might  the  shrill  voice  of  old 
Arnot  be  heard  as,  bending  over  a  frame,  he  discussed  with  the  minister 
the  merits  of  some  new  bloom.  A  pretty  flower-garden  was  soon 
formed,  and  a  sweet  summer-house,  both  destined  to  be  associated,  in 
the  minds  of  many,  with  the  recollection  of  conversations  full  of 
suggestive  ideas  as  to  social,  literary,  or  religious  questions,  and  enrich- 
ed with  marvellous  bits  of  humorous  personification,  and  glimpses  of 
deep  poetic  feeling. 

Soon  after  he  went  to  Loudoun,  his  sister  Jane  came  to  reside  with 
*  Afterwards  Marchioness  of  Bute. 


EARLY  MINISTRY  IN  LOUDOUN.  87 

him,  and  continued  for  eleven  years  under  his  roof,  his  very  "  alter 
Ego,"  sharing  his  every  thought,  possessing  his  inmost  love  and  con- 
fidence, and  exercising  the  best  iniluence  on  all  his  feelings.  1 1  is 
habit  was  to  rise  early  and  devote  the  morning  and  forenoon  to  hard 
study,  usually  carried  on  in  a  room  darkened  so  as  to  prevent  distrac- 
tion from  outside  objects.  His  studies  were  chiefly  theology  and 
general  literature,  his  sermons  being  often  delayed  till  late  in  the 
week.  He  devoted  the  afternoon,  and  frequently  the  evening,  to 
parochial  work,  especially  when  visiting  among  the  farmers,  who 
followed  the  good  old  Scotch  habit  of  hospitably  entertaining  the 
minister  when  he  went  to  their  houses.  These  kindly  meetings — his 
"  movable  feasts,"  as  he  called  them — gave  him  an  excellent  oppor- 
tunity of  becoming  well  acquainted  with  each  household  in  the  "land- 
ward "  parish.  But  when  he  was  at  home,  the  evenings  were  usually 
spent  in  the  enjoyment  of  music,  in  reading  aloud,  or  in  playing  a 
game  of  chess  with  his  sister.  Highland  pibrochs,  and  reels,  and 
Gaelic  songs,  alternated  with  such  old  ballads  as  "  Sir  Patrick  Spens," 
"  The  Arethusa,"  "  Admiral  Benbow;"  then  came  snatches  of  German 
song,  some  Weimar-recalling  waltz  of  Strauss,  or  the  grand  sonatas  of 
Beethoven  or  Mozart.  It  was  his  delight  to  read  aloud.  Shakespeare 
and  Scott,  and  especially  such  characters  as  Jack  Falstaff  and  Cuddy 
Headrigg,  were  his  favourites;  and  as  at  this  time  Dickens  was  issuing 
the  "  Old  Curiosity  Shop "  and  "  Barnaby  Rudge,"  nothing  could 
exceed  his  excitement  as  some  new  part  of  the  story  of  Little  Nell  or 
of  Dolly  Varden  arrived.  Wordsworth,  however,  was  his  chief  delight, 
and  few  days  passed  without  some  passage  from  his  works  being- 
selected  for  meditation.  But  in  the  midst  of  all  his  cares  and  studies, 
he  retained  not  only  a  boy's  heart,  but  a  love  of  boyish  fun  perfectly 
irresistible.  When  his  old  friend,  Sir  John  Campbell,  of  Kildaloig, 
who  had  been  at  sea  most  of  his  life,  came  to  spend  a  winter  with 
him,  the  two  friends  used  to  indulge  in  many  a  sailor  prank  from  the 
sheer  love  both  had  for  the  brine.  The  dinner-bell  was  rigged  up  as 
on  shipboard,  and  at  mid-day  Sir  John  struck  eight  bells  as  solemnly 
as  if  the  watch  had  to  be  changed.  Then  Norman,  suddenly  emerging 
from  his  study,  would  greet  him  with  a  run  of  sailor  lingo,  and  voice, 
gait,  countenance,  the  rolling  of  an  imaginary  quid  in  his  cheek,  be- 
came thoroughly  nautical.  A  sham  "  observation "  was  taken,  and 
after  a  hearty  laugh  the  door  was  shut,  and  he  returned  to  hard  study 
once  more. 

These  five  years  at  Loudoun  were  the  very  spring-time  of  his 
ministerial  life.  Full  of  romantic  dreams,  and  overflowing  with  hope- 
ful enthusiasm,  he  seemed 

Many  a  conviction  was  then  formed,  which  afterwards  germinated  into 
notable  action  on  the  larger  field  of  his  future  career,  and  many  a  line 
of  thought  became  fixed,  determining  his  after  course.  That  sweet 
Manse-life,  and  the  warm  attachment  of  the  parishioners,  shed  to  the 
very  last  a  halo,  as  of  first  love,  over  "  dear,  dear  Loudoun." 

"To  hear  his  days  before  him,  and  the  tumult  of  his  life." 


88  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"Dec.  27th,  1837. — I  preached  last  Sunday  at  Loudoun,  and  I  believe 
gave  satisfaction.  1  Lave  every  reason  to  believe  that  no  veto  'will  be 
attempted. 

"Loudoun,  Dec.  31,  1837.  Sunday  Night,  11  o'clock. — 'The  year  is  wan- 
ing.'   In  an  hour,  1838  will  have  arrived.     Let  me  think  ! 

"  This  very  time  five  years  ago  I  was  with  dear  James  !  Yes,  dear  boy, 
I  remember  you.  I  believe  you  are  in  heaven.  Are  you  looking  upon  me 
now,  Jamie  ]  Are  you  looking  with  anxiety  upon  me,  and  longing  to  see 
me  obtain  the  victory  and  be  with  yourself  and  our  clear  sister  in  heaven 
along  with  our  beloved  Saviour  !  By  His  grace  that  victory  will  be  obtain- 
ed. Yes.  I  have  vowed  to  fight,  and  in  God's  strength  I  shall  conquer.  I 
will  trust  in  Him,  who  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever.  Dearest, 
we  shall  all  meet.     I  know  it.     I  believe  it.     Lord,  help  my  unbelief ! 

"  Into  Thy  hands,  O  God,  this  night,  I  commit  my  spirit  in  stepping  into 
the  future  1838. 

"Jan.  14th. — Have  heard  this  day  from  Loudoun,  that  yesterday  my  call 
was  moderated  and  there  was  not  one  objector.  This  is  certainly  pleasant 
and  most  gratifying. 

"  Last  Kilbride  Manse,  Sunday  Evening,  4th  Feb. — I  have  been  reading 
the  Memories  of  the  Rev.  C.  Wolff,  the  poet.  He  was  a  fine  fellow.  There 
is  something  very  affecting  in  his  whispering  to  his  sister,  who  was  bending 
over  him  as  he  Avas  dying — '  Close  this  eye,  the  other  is  closed  already,  and 
now  farewell !' 

"  March  12th,  Sunday. — This  is  the  last  day  I  shall  probably  ever  preach 
as  a  mere  preacher.  I  have  not  yet  been  a  year  licensed,  and  upon  Thurs- 
day first  I  expect,  D.V.,  to  be  ordained. 

"  How  awful  is  the  tide  of  time  ! 

"  Thank  God  from  my  heart  that  for  some  time  past  I  have  been  endea- 
vouring to  see  Christ  as  all  in  all.  But  when  I  look  forward  to  my  ordina- 
tion, it  is  very,  very  solemn.  As  the  day  approaches,  I  feel  a  shrinking 
from  it.  It  is  first  of  all  a  fearful  responsibility,  and  then  I  have  not  one 
suitable  sermon  which  I  can  give  the  Sunday  after  my  induction,  and  no 
lecture  of  any  kind !  The  very  intellectual  labour  terrifies  me.  I  pray  to  be 
supported  by  God. 

"March  15th. — How  shall  I  begin  this  day's  diary?  What  reflections 
shall  I  make,  what  thoughts  shall  I  express  when  I  state  the  fact  that  I  was 

THIS    DAY   ORDAINED    A    MINISTER    OF    THE    CHURCH    OP    SCOTLAND? 

"  This  indeed  is  a  point  in  a  man's  life,  an  awful  division  of  time  ! 

"  But  what  are  mv  feelings  1 

"  I  bless  my  Father  and  my  Saviour  for  the  love  shown  to  me.  I  was 
enabled  to  have  sweet  communion  with  God.  Before  going  into  the  church, 
and  while  kneeling  beneath  the  hands  of  the  Presbytery,  I  was,  by  God's 
assistance,  enabled  to  devote  heartily  my  soul  and  body  to  the  service  of  my 
parish,  which  I  trust  may  be  accepted." 

To  the  Rev.  A.  Clerk  : — 

"Newmilns,  March  25,  1838. 

"I  was  ordained  here  on  the  15th.  You  know  what  an  awful  thing  it  is. 
I  feel  as  if  the  weight  of  those  hands  was  still  upon  my  head,  crushing  me 


EA RL  Y  MINISTR  Y  JN  LO  UDO  UN.  R 9 

with  responsibility.  But  it  was  a  delightful  scene.  Never  was  a  more  un- 
animous, a  more  hearty  welcome,  and  with  real  good-will  was  my  hand 
shaken,  from  the  marchioness  to  the  pauper.  Dr.  Black  (Barony)  intro- 
duced me.  I  got  well  over  my  first  sermon,  'Now  are  we  ambassadors.' 
Once  or  twice  nearly  overcome;  and  this  day  I  have  preached  twice.  1 
have  been,  then,  in  the  parish  a  week,  have  been  over  it  all,  visited  each 
day  from  ten  till  five;  and  what  do  I  think  of  it?  Why,  that  it  is  in  a 
terrible  state — very  terrible  !  Its  population  is  four  thousand.  The  rural 
part  is  good  and  respectable,  and  so  is  Darvel — because  there  a  most  admir- 
able, intelligent,  well-read,  kind-hearted,  frank,  godly  man,  a  Covenanting 
minister,  has  been,  who  goes  into  every  good  work  with  heart  and  soul,  and 
'loes  me  as  a  verra  brither.'  But  Newinilns!  "What  a  place!  I  am  now 
in  clean,  comfortable  lodgings.  I  am  acquainted  with  the  real  state  of 
things.  Never,  never,  was  there  such  desecration  of  the  Lord's  Day :  dozens 
and  dozens  of  lads  walking  about  and  trespassing  on  fields,  and  insulting  the 
people  and  fearing  neither  God  nor  man.  A  large  proportion  of  the  popula- 
tion are  born  before  marriage  !  The  mass  of  the  youth  are  sent  to  work  be- 
fore they  can  read,  and  in  a  few  years  are  independent  of  their  parents.  In 
short,  between  drunkenness  and  swearing  and  Sabbath-breaking,  the  village  is 
in  a  dreadful  state — and  may  God  have  mercy  on  it !  There  is  in  ail  the 
parish  an  awful  want  of  spiritual  religion.  The  Hastings  family  are  the 
most  delightful  I  meet  with.  I  am  there  as  in  my  own  home,  and  the  time 
I  spend  with  them  is  the  happiest  in  the  week.  I  do  love  them.  But  what 
Archy,  is  to  be  done]  Well,  this  much  I  will  say — that  I  trust  God  has 
given  me  a  deep-felt  conviction  of  my  utter  iuability  to  do  anything.  (At 
this  very  moment  you  would  think  a  school  was  coming  out,  from  the  noise 
in  the  street !)  I  was  going  on  to  say  that  while  on  the  one  hand  I  am  cast 
entirely  on  Him  for  help,  yet  I  am  also  led  to  use  all  the  means  in  my  power 
to  effect  a  change.  I  have  been  enabled  boldly,  in  private  and  public,  to 
exhort  and  rebuke  and  speak  the  truth.  I  have  already  visited  a  good  deal 
and,  as  far  as  I  could,  preached  Christ.  I  rise  at  six  and  write  till  nine — I 
must  do  this.  Till  five  I  am  at  the  disposal  of  my  parish ;  from  that  till  ten 
I  read  and  write.  I  begin  upon  Wednesday  family  visitation  in  this  village. 
I  will  only  attempt  two  days  a  week,  and  two  hours  each  day ;  but  I  rmist, 
as  soon  as  possible,  get  acquainted  with  the  people,  so  as,  under  God,  to  try 
and  put  a  stop  to  this  monstrous  wickedness.  I  will  next  year  catechise. 
One  thing  I  am  determined  to  make  a  stand  on,  and  that  is  church  privileges. 
As  far  as  the  law  will  permit  me  I  will  go — and  further  if  I  can.  I  am 
eagerly  desirous  to  get  family  worship  established — of  that  there  seems  not 
to  be  a  vestige,  except  among  the  Cameronians,  and  there  every  family 
has  it.  I  can  hardly  make  it  as  yet  a  sine  qua  non  for  baptism,  but  I  will 
very  nearly  do  it,  and  soon  I  think  I  shall.  I  have  only  four  elders.  The 
church  does  not  hold  the  communicants ;  it  is,  of  course,  crammed.  There 
are  no  good  Sabbath  Schools,  no  Bible  societies.  The  assessments  amount 
to  about  £200  a  year.  Oh,  that  the  Lord  would  pour  His  Spirit  out  on  the 
dry  and  thirsty  ground  !  He  can  do  it — and  I  pray,  for  Christ's  sake,  thai 
He  may  do  it,  for  I  feel  as  fit  to  change  the  course  of  the  sun  as  the  hearts 
of  this  people.  But  what  a  heart  I  have  myself!  Oh,  my  dear  friend,  you 
know  me  well,  you  will  help  me,  will  you  not,  with  your  prayers  and  with 
your  advice]" 


90  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

From  his  Journal:— 

"My  Manse  is  very  beautiful.  I  am  making  many  changes  in  the 
grounds.  The  birds  are  beginning  to  sing.  'They  are  busy  in  the  wood;' 
and  it  calms  me  to  sit  in  the  woods  and  listen  to  them — for  if  God  is  so  kind 
to  them,  and  fills  them  with  so  much  happiness,  I  feel  assured  he  will  never 
forget  a  minister  in  the  church  of  his  dear  Son,  unless  he  forgets  Him. 

"  This  is  the  fix*st  day  I  have  fairly  begun  work  in  my  parish.     I  studied 

from  five  to  nine.     Visited  T P .      He  seems  dying.       He  was  the 

first  sick  person  I  have  ever  visited.  I  spoke  to  him  by  himself;  found 
him,  I  think,  indifferent.  He  admitted  the  truth  of  all  I  said,  but  I  could 
not  get  him  to  close  with  the  offers  of  Christ.  It  is  my  delight  and  com- 
fort to  expatiate  on  the  fulness  and  freeness  of  the  Gospel  without  money 
and  without  price  ;  for  I  find,  as  I  did  with  P ,  that  they  will  not  ac- 
cept of  Christ  without  bringing  something  to  Him.  And  while  they  are 
willing  to  say  that  He  is  a  Saviour,  they  will  not  say  He  is  their  Saviour. 
I  spoke  to  him  as  solemnly  as  I  could,  urging  him  to  accept  Christ  as  he 
was,  and  to  come  to  Him  as  he  was — even  as  he  would  have  to  answer  to 
God! 

"  March  20(h. — A.  M ,  a  perfect  specimen  of  a  deist — at  one  time  an 

atheist,  at  another  a  deist — knowing  nothing,  believing  nothing  ;  harsh,  im- 
petuous, proud,  prejudiced,  yet  believing  himself  candid — a  difficult  man ; 
yet  had  two  children  baptized.  I  spoke  an  hour  with  him,  but  it  is  like 
combating  the  wind.  I  promised  to  send  him  books.  [Yet  this  man 
afterwards  became  a  communicant,  and  is,  I  hope,  a  sincere  believer.] 

"  3rd  April. — Since  my  ordination  I  have  been  busy  in  the  parish.  I 
find  kindness  and  attention  everywhere  I  go, — down  from  that  dear 
Hastings  family  to  the  lowest  on  the  poor's  list. 

"Sunday,  June  10th. — Last  Sabbath  I  entered  my  twenty-seventh  year. 
Another  year  nearer  the  grave.  .  .  I  rejoice  that  many  love  Thee  on 
earth  better  than  I  do,  and  that  the  angels  in  heaven  adore  Thee  in  suitable 
ways.  I  rejoice  that  thou  art  glorious  without  my  aid.  I  thank  God 
that  any  man  being  converted  to  Christ  would  rejoice  me,  and  that,  from 
my  soul  I  say  it,  I  would  do  so  though  it  were  not  through  my  instrumentality. 
I  thank  Him  for  the  longings  He  often  gives  me  after  better  things,  and  for 
the  love  with  which  He  often  fills  my  soul  for  Him  and  for  all  Christ's  dis- 
ciples. I  thank  Him  that  during  the  last  year  He  has  showered  down 
on  me  innumerable  blessings. 

"  0  God,  Thine  eye  has  seen  me  write  these  things  !  Omnipresent  !  I 
rejoice  that  Thou  knowest  the  heart.  I  have  not  one  thing  that  I  can 
plead — no  faith,  no  repentance,  no  tears.  A  sinner  I  am.  But  oh,  God, 
I  will,  in  opposition  to  all  the  temptations  of  the  flesh  and  corrupt,  hard 
heart — I  will  throw  myself,  with  all  my  strength,  in  simplicity  and,  I  trust, 
in  godly  sincerity  on  Christ,  and  Him  crucified,  and  say  this  is  all  my  sal- 
vation and  all  my  desire. 

"  June  1th,  1838,  Loudoun. — I  am  very  happy  here,  and  I  believe  I  may 
say  that  I  and  the  people  are  the  best  of  friends.  I  never  received  greater 
civility — the  very  voluntaries  came  outside  their  doors  to  shake  hands  with 
me.  The  church  is  crowded  to  suffocation — stairs  and  passages,  and  I  never 
use  a  scrap  of  paper.  I  have  an  odd  congregation  of  rich  and  poor,  lords, 
ladies,  and  paupers  ;  but  all  sinners.  I  am  often  frightened  when  I  think 
of  my  mei'cies. 


EARLY  MINISTRY  IN  LOUDOUN.  91 

"June  25th. — I  have  had  to-day,  or  this  evening,  much  joy  and  much  humil- 
ity. A  woman  told  me  that  I  had  been  blessed  for  the  good  of  her  soul,  and 
given  her  joy  and  peace;  and  I  think  she  gave  evidence  from  what  I  saw 
of  her  that  she  is  a  true  believer.  She  gave  me  likewise  five  shillings  for 
any  religious  purpose.  She  will  and  does  pray  for  me.  I  wept  much  at 
this  proof  of  God's  love.  I — that  /  should  be  made  such  an  instrument. 
But,  blessed  be  God's  name,  He  may  make  a  fly  do  His  errands.  He  is 
good  and  gracious — and  oh  !  I  hope  I  may  save  some  ;  I  pray  I  may  bring 
some  to  Christ,  for  His  sake.  May  I  be  humble  for  all  God  is  doing  for 
me  !  His  blessings  crush  me  !  May  they  not  destroy  me  !  May  Christ 
be  magnified  in  me  !" 

To  a  Fr.ir.ND  : — 

"Loudoun,  September 20,  1838. 

"  Your  mind  is  a  good,  strong,  vigorous  one,  but  you  are  inclined  to  in- 
dolence. You  require  the  stimulus  of  society  and  of  external  circum- 
stances to  go  on  your  course.  You  are  more  of  a  sailing  ship  than  a  steam 
ship — the  power  which  propels  you  must  come  from  without  more  than 
from  within.  You  are  well  built,  have  famous  timber,  a  good  compass,  good 
charts;  but  you  want  a  'freshening  breeze  to  follow.'  You  must  then  rouse 
yourself;  set  every  sail,  and  catch  the  breeze  you  have.  You  have  many 
things  to  stir  you  up.  You  have  a  noble  moral  experiment  to  try — tho 
rearing  immoital  souls.  It  is  no  experiment,  thank  God  !  It  is  certainty, 
if  the  right  means  are  used.  If  you  do  not  study,  you  are  gone.  I  beseech 
you,  I  implore  of  you,  my  dear  old  fellow,  do  not  give  up  study.  Beware  of 
backsliding ;  beware  of  descending.  It  is  a  terribly  accelerated  motion ! 
Beware  of  the  fearful  temptation  of  thinking  that  you  have  had  sufficient 
evidence  of  being  converted,  and  that  as  the  Elect  never  are  lost  you  may 
take  some  ease  in  Zion.  This  is  not  too  much  for  the  wicked  heart  of  man 
to  conceive.  Remember,  we  must  grow  in  grace — we  must  ever  fight  if  we 
are  to  obtain  the  victory.  Christ  waits  to  'see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul.' 
Let  us  not  '  quench  the  Spirit.'  The  demand  will  bear  a  proportion  to  the 
work  done.  I  thank  you  very  much  for  what  you  said  to  me.  It  has 
cleared  up  the  mist  a  little.  You  are  very  right  about  not  seeking  too  much 
for  evidence.  I  feel  its  truth.  We  are  so  anxious  to  be  safe  merely — more 
than  to  be  holy.  I  am  by  no  means  satisfied  that  I  have  been  really  con- 
verted. From  my  natural  constitution  I  am  liable  to  be  deceived.  My 
feelings  being  easily  excited  to  good  as  well  as  bad,  I  am  apt  to  mistake  an 
excited  state  of  the  feelings  for  a  holy  state  of  the  heart ;  and  so  sure  am  I 
of  the  deception,  that  when  in  an  excited  state  regarding  eternal  things,  I 
tremble,  knowing  it  is  the  symptom  of  a  fall,  and  that  I  must  be  more 
earnest  in  prayer.  Self-confidence  is  my  ruin.  I  deeply  feel,  or  rather  I 
am  clearly  conscious,  of  a  dreadful  coldness  regarding  the  saving  of  souls.  I 
have  seldom  a  glimpse  of  true  love  for  a  soul.  It  is  an  awful  confession, 
but  it  is  true.  Oh  this  body  of  death  !  this  soul-killing,  this  murdering 
sin !  When,  when  will  this  Egyptian  darkness  be  for  ever  past  1  When 
shall  this  lepi'osy  be  finally  healed  ]  Oh  that  my  soul  were  but  one  half 
hour  saturated  and  filled  with  a  sense  of  God's  love  to  me  a  sinner  !  If  I 
could  only  obtain  one  full  and  clear  glimpse  of  the  gulf  to  which  sin  has 
brought  me  and  from  which, Christ  has  saved  me,  I  know  that  I  would  go 


92  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

to  tlio  world's  end  if  by  any  possibility  I  could  lead  another  to  see  the  same 
trreat  salvation.  Never,  never  can  we  succeed  as  ministers  unless  we  are 
personally  holy.  Power,  genius,  learning,  are  mere  skeletons — this  the  life  ; 
magnificent  statues  to  call  forth  the  highest  admiration  from  men  of  taste 
and  feeling,  but  not  living  tilings  to  love,  to  rouse  to  action,  to  point  to 
heaven,  to  tell  of  heavenly  things  ;  and  so  it  is  my  parochial  visitations,  my 
prayers  at  sick  beds,  my  Sabbaths,  my  duties  in  school,  that  crush  me  most 
to  earth.  So  little  real  love  of  God,  so  little  real  single-heartedness  for  the 
magnifying  of  Christ,  so  much  self-satisfaction,  that  my  only  comfort  is  my 
having  a  good  and  great  High  Priest,  who  can  bear  the  iniquity  of  our  holy 
things.  Pray,  pray — this  is  the  sheet  anchor.  I  am  going  to  establish 
prayer  meetings  when  I  get  my  new  eldership,  and  I  trust  they  will  be 
spiritual  conductors  (so  to  speak)  to  bring  down  good  gifts  to  this  thirsty 
land. 

"  I  had  Lord  Jeffrey  in  church.  I  never  had  a  more  fixed  and  attentive 
listener.  Luckily,  I  was  thoroughly  prepared.  I  generally  take  eight  hours 
to  write  a  sermon.  I  rise  at  six.  I  never  begin  to  commit  until  Saturday 
night — four  readings  do  it.  The  church  is  crammed  ;  they  are  sitting  out- 
side the  doors,  and  come  from  all  quarters.  All  this  is  very  well,  but  what 
if  God  withholds  the  blessing?  I  pray  He  may  be  glorified.  I  do  not  un- 
derstand your  question.     Answer  me  the  following  : — 

"  1.  Do  the  posterity  of  Adam,  unless  saved  by  Christ,  suffer  final  dam- 
nation on  account  of  Adam's  sin?    If  so,  how  is  this  reconciled  with  justice? 

"  2.  How  can  we  reconcile  it  with  justice  that  men  should  come  into  the 
world  with  dispositions  so  bad  that  they  invariably  produce  sin  that  leads 
to  damnation  ? 

"  3.  If  the  unregenerate  are  dead  in  sins,  then  all  they  do  is  sin  ;  there- 
fore, whatever  they  do  in  that  state  is  abominable  to  God.  Are  their 
exercises  and  strivings  so  ?  their  attendance  on  means  of  grace  ? 

"  4.  Is  the  imputation  of  righteousness  the  transfer  of  the  righteousness 
itself,  or  are  the  beneficial  consequences  of  the  righteousness  alone  trans- 
ferred ? 

"  Chalmers  came  to  Kilmarnock  to  meet  the  Presbytery.  It  was  the 
old  story.  He  made  a  great  impression.  At  one  time  how  I  did  laugh  ! 
He  had  a  bundle  of  letters  from  colliers,  <fcc,  about  Stob  Hill.  He  let 
them  all  fall  in  the  precentor's  box,  where  he  was  standing.  He  disap- 
peared searching  for  them.  At  one  time  you  would  see  his  back,  at 
another  an  elbow,  then  his  head,  reaching  out  the  cushions  of  the  seat  to 
any  one  who  liked  to  take  them ;  in  short,  all  topsy-turvy,  and  his  face  as 
red  as  a  turkey-cock." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"Oct.  \Ath. — Tempus  fugit.  The  stream  of  life  flows  sensibly  on.  'I 
hear  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore.' 

"  Upon  this  day  last  week  (Sabbath)  I  slept  for  the  first  time  in  my  own 
house.  This  to  a  clergyman  is  like  stepping  on  the  great  table-land  of  life. 
To  me  it  is  especially  so ;  for,  being  perfectly  satisfied  with  my  lot,  having 
no  ambitious  feelings  to  gratify,  or  rather,  it  may  be,  having  too  strong 
ambitious  feelings  to  be  satisfied  with  anything  I  can  ever  reasonably 
expect  to  have  in  this  world,  I  consider  myself  fixed  for  life,  be  it  long  or 


EA  RL  Y  MIN1STR  Y  IN  LO  UDO  UN.  93 

short.  Long  I  do  not  expect  it  to  be.  I  am  not  made  for  long  life.  I  feel 
every  Sunday  that  the  machine  suffers  very  considerably  from  friction. 

"  21th  July. — T  had  a  strange  day  of  visitation.  I  was  called  in  to  see 
a  man  who  had  a  few  hours  before  been  struck  by  palsy.  On  Sunday 
he  was  at  the  Lord's  Table  ;  to-day  he  is  dying.  He  was  in  a  half  stupor: 
He  recognized  me,  and  said,  in  a  low  voice,  with  half-shut  eyes,  '  I 
rely  solely  on  the  merits  of  Christ,  and  him  crucified  1  I  hope  my  anchor 
is  safe  within  the  vail  !     I  hope  so !     Came   home  at  dinner  time,  and 

while  I  was  waiting  for  dinner,  I  went  across  to  see  M ,  whom  I  had 

seen  yesterday.  I  found  him  alone,  and  weaker  and  more  breathless  than 
when  I  saw  him  last.  I  spoke  to  him  of  Christ,  and  besought  him  to  close 
with  the  offers  of  salvation.  I  prayed  for  him  earnestly,  beseeching  Christ 
to  accept  him.  When  I  was  done,  he  took  my  hand —  '  I  thank  you,'  he 
said;  'p — p — pray  for  me  in  private  and  in  public  on  Sunday,  if  I  am 
alive.'  As  I  took  his  hand,  I  said,  '  Why,  now,  can  you  not  take  Christ 
as  you  take  me?  He  is  stretching  forth  his  hands,  refuse  Him  not.  He  is 
all  sufficient,  can  give  you  all  you  want,  and  beseeches  you  to  take.     And 

what,  M ,  if  you  are  dead  before  Sabbath]     What  if  you  do  see  Christ? 

Would  you  like  to  see  Him  and  his  Apostles'?'  I  then  sent  for  his 
daughter  to  sit  beside  him.  I  came  home  and  fell  on  my  knees  and  prayed 
for  him,  as  he  desired.  I  came  to  my  room.  A  sudden  scream  was  heard. 
His  daughter  had  just  arrived.  Her  father  was  in  eternity  !  How  awful  ! 
Oh,  may  God  stir  me  up  to  greater  diligence  and  zeal  !  Into  Thy  hands  I 
commit  my  soul  and  parish  ! 

"  Neivmilns,  Jan.  2,  1839. — I  am  getting  on  here  slowly,  but,  I  trust, 
surely.  I  continue  visiting  regularly,  and  find  it  of  much  benefit.  I  am 
enabled  always  to  commence  it  by  private  prayer,  and  to  lay  the  different 
cases  before  God  on  my  return.  Yet  it  is  always  mixed  with  prodigious 
formality,  hypocrisy,  and  vain  glory.  Infidelity  is  getting  rampant,  and  it 
was  not  known  to  have  had  so  extensive  a  hold  in  the  parish  till  I  came 
here.  They  read  Paine  aloud  to  a  party  !  I  gi'ieve,  yet  I  have  no  fear. 
Fear  is  the  child  of  Atheism.  'The  people  imagine  a  vain  thing.  The 
Lord  will  hold  them  iu  derision.'  There  are  six  things  which  I  hope  may 
be  blessed,  as  useful  instruments  for  doing  good — a  new  church ;  second, 
an  eldership  ;  third,  an  infant  school ;  fourth,  prayer  meetings  ;  fifth,  cate- 
chetical diets ;  sixth,  an  evening  Sabbath  class  for  young  men ;  and  I  should 
add  ten-fold  greater  strictness  in  giving  admission  to  the  ordinances — 
'  professing  faith  in  Christ,  and  obedience  to  Him  ! '  How  much  is  in 
this  !  yet  to  this  we  must  come,  and  by  God's  grace  I  shall  come,  if  but  one 
child  is  baptised  in  the  year.  Think  only  of  a  man  asking  baptism  for  a 
bastard  child  ;  he  was  a  communicant ;  and  when  I  asked,  '  who  was  the 
Holy  Ghost1?'  he  answered,  '  I  believe  he  was  a  man  ! ' 

"  I  was  at  the  assembly.  I  am,  for  a  wonder,  getting  modest  on  Church 
politics,  and  begin  to  believe  what  I  often  feared — that  I  know  nothing 
about  them.  Yet  like  all  who  are  ignorant,  I  have  got  a  superstitious  dread 
of  something  being  wrong  about  the  decisions  of  the  High  Side.  All  the  old 
hands  are  alarmed,  the  young  only  are  confident.  A  smoke  was  my  only 
argument !" 


94  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

To  his  Aunt,  Mrs.  Maxwell:—  "Loudoun,  April 22,  1839. 

"I  have  just  been  looking  out  at  the  window.  There  is  a  thin,  transpar- 
ent mist  along  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  with  the  tops  of  trees  appearing 
above  it,  and  above  them  the  sky  is  calm  and  blue;  the  shrubs  are  all  burst- 
ing into  life,  and  the  birds  are  busy  in  the  woods  furnishing  their  manses, 
with  no  bills  but  their  own.  There  they  go  !  Whit-ee  whil-ee  tui-tu-e-e  chitclc- 
chuck-tirr  tu-e-e-tirr  tui-tui  roo-too.  If  my  poor  mother  heard  them,  she 
would  say  that  they  would  hurt  their  backs,  and  that  they  were  overwork- 
ing their  system.  There  is  an  old  thrush  opposite  the  window  who  will 
sweat  himself  into  a  bilious  attack,  if  he  does  not  take  care.  The  old  fool, 
I  suppose,  wishes  to  get  married,  or  he  is  practising  for  some  wedding,  and 
is  anxious  to  know  whether  or  not  he  remembers  all  his  old  songs.  My 
blessings  on  their  merry  voices.  They  do  one's  heart  good.  How  exquis- 
itely does  Christ  point  to  nature,  linking  the  world  without  to  the  world 
within  !  '  Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air !'  Yes,  let  us  behold  them ;  they  are 
as  happy  as  the  day  is  long;  they  have  survived  a  dreary  winter  without 
any  care  or  anxiety — and  why  1  '  Their  heavenly  Father  feedeth  them.' 
How  comforting  the  application,  'Are  ye  not  much  better  than  they?'  Yes, 
verily;  nearer  to  God,  dearer  to  God  ;  His  children,  not  His  birds.  '  Behold 
the  lilies  how  they  grow  !'  There  they  are,  under  my  window  in  hundreds; 
and  yet,  a  short  time  ago  they  were  all  hid  in  snow,  and  now  Solomon  is 
outdone  by  them  in  beauty.  '  Why  take  ye  thought  for  raiment  V  God, 
that  gave  the  life,  can  give  the  meat ;  He  who  gave  the  body  can  give  the 
clothing.  He  who  takes  care  of  birds  and  flowers,  will  take  care  of  His  own 
children.  '  Wherefore  do  ye  doubt  V  He  knoweth  we  need  those  things ;  if 
He  does  so,  if  He  cares  for  us,  why  should  we  care  ?  Let  us  seek,  first,  His 
kingdom  and  righteousness  as  the  way  to  it ;  and  God,  who  cannot  lie,  says, 
'  All  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you' — 'added' — given  over  and  above. 
Oh  !  that  we  felt  that  the  best  and  only  sure  way  of  getting  things  of  this 
world  was  first  to  attend  to  the  things  of  another,  then  we  would  take  no 
disquieting  or  uneasy  thoughts  about  the  future.  Each  day  comes  with  its 
own  cares,  which  need  no  increase  by  adding  to  them  the  cares  of  the  next. 
'  Sufficient,  indeed,  is  each  day's  evil  for  itself,  and  with  each  day  is  strength 
for  the  cares  of  that  day,  though  no  strength  is  promised  to  relieve  us  from 
the  additional  cares  we  gather  in  from  the  morrow.'  How  few  receive  the 
real  practical  benefits  of  these  truths — these  precious  promises  ;  and  why  1 
They  do  not  believe  that  their  interests  are  in  safe-keeping  in  God's  hands. 
They  do  not  permit  Him,  unreservedly,  to  choose  their  inheritance  for  them. 
They  have  'excepts'  for  the  moment.  You  see  the  effects  of  preaching  three 
sermons  on  Sunday — I  preach  a  fourth  on  Monday. 

"My  father  talks  of  going  to  Ireland  in  ten  days;  if  he  docs,  I  go  with 
him.  Everything  goes  on  avcII  in  the  parish — lots  to  do.  The  Manse  is 
looking  beautiful.  Spring  is  the  finest  of  all  the  seasons.  Hope  is  its 
genius." 

Dr.  Macleod,  Sen.,  to  Mrs.  Gray  : — 

"  Belfast,  Tuesday  and  Wednesday  (what  day  of  the 
month,  I  know  not),  June,  1839. 

"  Norman,  Clerk,  and  I,  set  out  on  Monday  evening,  on  the  self-same 
day  on  which  you  left  for  the  Isle  of  Mist — we  for  'the  sweet  Isle  of  the 


EAJILY  MINISTRY  IN  LOUDOUN.  95 

Ocean,'  the  green,  the  charming  Emerald  Isle.  The  word  was  given,  'Set 
on,'  and  on  we  went,  splash,  splash.  A  noble  boat  the  Rapid.  'We  sailed 
as  on  a  mirror — ocean  reflecting  the  loveliness  of  the  stars,  the  young  moon, 
the  Craig  of  Ailsa,  and  my  face  !  We  left  the  blue  hills  of  Arran  sleeping 
in  calm  serenity  on  the  face  of  the  mighty  deep,  and  Lamlash  Isle  like  an 
infant  in  its  bosom. 

"  We  had  a  most  delightful  sail  up  to  Belfast  on  Tuesday  morning. 
Reached  it  at  eight  o'clock,  and  went  to  the  Synod  Norman  and  Clerk  got 
a  car  and  set  off  for  Lisburn ;  from  that  to  Loch  Neagh,  Lord  O'Neile's 
place.  I  was  received  at  the  Synod  with  cheers.  1  attended  two  days, 
made  a  long  speech,  and  heard  most  heart-cheering  tidings  of  my  Irish 
Psalms.  I  was  much  gratified.  Norman  returned  on  Wednesday  evening 
literally  daft ;  he  laughed  till  he  could  laugh  no  more  ;  he  tried  to  pass  off 
as  an  Irish  wit  among  the  beggars  and  people,  but  was  beat  to  nothing  by 
every  man,  woman,  and  child  he  met.  They  utterly  confounded  him.  He 
met  a  bird-seller ;  he  carried  a  fine  blackbird,  with  a  large  yellow  bill. 
'  What  bill  is  that  you  are  carrying  through  %  Is  it  the  Appropriation  Bill, 
or  the  Emancipation  Bill  V  *  Dad,  yer  honour,'  said  Pat,  '  it  is  neither  the 
one,  nor  yet  the  t'other,  but  a  better  Bill  than  either  :  'tis  the  Orange  Bill.' 

"  He  came  up  shortly  afterwards  to  a  poor  man  who  had  on  a  pair  of 
wretched  shoes,  which  he  was  endeavouring  to  drag  after  him,  but  no  stock- 
ings. '  Who  made  your  shoes,  friend  V  said  Norman.  '  He  did  not  take 
your  measure  well.'  '  Troth,  yer  honour,  he  did  not ;  but  look  at  my  stock- 
ings,' said  he,  clapping  the  bare  skin — '  My  own  darling  mother's  stockings. 
Och,  but  it  is  themselves  that  fit !'  He  got  many  other  ridiculous  answers 
of  the  same  kind.      Adieu  !" 

To  his  Sister  Jane  : — 

"  With  my  eyes  half-shut  can  I  write  thee  1  With  a  halo  round  the 
candle  can  I  write  thee  1  '  Yes  !'  cried  Roderick.  '  And  give  my  love,  and 
point  out  the  new  buttons  I  have  got  on  my  coat ;  and  give  her  a  view  of 
me  in  my  bonnet ;  and  show  her  also  my  coat ;  and  my  trousers." 

To  the  Eev.  A.  Clerk  : — 

"  We  had  a  grand  soiree  in  Glasgow  for  a  Congregational  library.  I 
made  a  horrid  fool  of  myself,  i.e.  stuck  in  my  speech.  No  one  saw  it,  but 
all  allowed  I  had  done  scientifically  ill.  It  was  a  splendid  soiree.  But  I 
hate  them.  How  can  a  man  speak  in  an  atmosphere  composed  of  orange 
acid — the  fumes  of  tea  and  toast,  boiling  water,  peak  reek  and  gas,  blown 
into  a  hurricane  by  the  bagpipes  1  A  soiree  I  take  to  be  a  sort  of  Evangeli- 
cal theatre,  where  the  ministers  are  the  actors,  and  the  stage  need  not  be 
jealous." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"June,  1839. —  ....  Luckily  Puseyism,  while  it  is  eating  the  vitals  of 
the  Church  of  England,  has  made  no  advances  in  Ireland  of  any  consequence. 
It  is  too  much  like  Rome.  I  have  a  horror  for  Puseyism.  I  fear  it  is  of 
more  danger  to  religion  than  Voluntaryism.  We  are  not  yet  alive  to  the 
importance  of  the  controversy  in  Scotland. 

"Thank  God  for  our  Scottish  Reformers.     They  lived  far,  far  ahead  of 


96  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

their  age.  The  position  which  they  occupied  was  highly  scientific.  I  do 
think  that  the  Church  of  Scotland,  from  her  doctrine,  worship,  &c,  is  of  all 
Churches  the  best  fitted  to  grapple  with  the  spirit  of  the  age.  She  cannot 
be  reformed.  We  are  skinned  down  to  essentials — so  much  the  better. 
*  Poor  Ireland  !'  Poor  for  what?  Nothing  but  the  want  of  principle.  Of 
what  avail  is  it  to  put  a  maniac  in  a  palace,  a  demoniac  in  a  church  1  They 
endeavour  to  reform  men  by  putting  better  coats  on  their  backs.  A  man 
must  have  hell  taken  out  of  himself  before  he  can  be  said  to  be  out  of  hell. 

"  2nd  August,  1839. — We  had  a  most  delightful  Communion  Sabbath. 
Anything  more  quiet,  beautiful,  and  solemn  I  never  witnessed. 

"  Rory*  must  not  think  all  negligent  but  himself.  I  was  forced  to  ex- 
clude fourteen  from  the  communion  this  year  who  were  open  enemies, 
notorious  drunkards,  and  such  like  ;  but  God  forbid  that  I  should  exclude  any 
man  who  has  nothing  in  his  external  conduct  which  is  inconsistent  with  his 
being  a  Christian.     Bad  habits  are  the  only  time  test. 

"  My  father  preached  on  a  lovely  summer's  evening  to  about  three 
thousand  people  in  the  tent.f  Not  a  sound  but  of  praise,  and  the  voice  of 
the  preacher. 

"  Dec.  23rd  (the  anniversary  of  his  brother's  death). — I  think  I  may  defy 
time  to  blot  out  all  that  occurred  in  December,  '33.  That  warm  room  ;  the 
large  bed  with  the  blue  curtains  ;  the  tall,  thin  boy  with  the  pale  face  and 
jet  black  speaking  eyes  and  long,  curly  hair  ;  the  anxious  mother  ;  the  silent 
steps  ;  then  the  loss  of  hope.  The  last  scene !  Oh,  my  brother,  my  dear, 
dear  brother  !  if  thou  seest  me,  thou  knowest  how  I  cherish  thy  memory. 
Yes,  Jamie.  I  will  never  forget  you.  If  I  live  to  be  an  old  man,  you  will 
be  fresh  and  blooming  in  my  memory.  My  soul  l'ejoices  in  being  able  to 
entertain  the  hope  that  I  shall  see  you  in  heaven  !  What  days  of  darkness 
and  ingratitude  have  I  spent  since  I  thought  I  was  God's  !  Omnipotent 
God,  Father  of  mercies,  shield,  buckler,  and  strong  tower  to  all  Thy  people, 
take  me  to  Thyself ;  keep  me,  save  me  ;  but  oh  !  never,  never,  I  beseech 
Thee,  leave  me  to  mj-self,  until  I  join  all  Thy  children  in  heaven. 

"  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  be  not  forgetful  of  all  His  gracious 
benefits  !" 


FROM    LINES    TO    A    SLEEPING    SISTER. 

Yet  meekly  yield  when  thou  must  drink 

The  righteous  cup  of  human  sorrow  ■ 

For  patient  suff'ring  is  the  link 

Which  binds  us  to  a  glorious  morrow. 
♦  *  #  * 


"  Jan.  9th,  1840. — This  day  received  tidings  of  Lady  Hastings'  death. 
I  feel  my  loss.  A  chain  is  broken  which  bound  me  with  others  to  the 
parish.  She  was  a  deeply  affectionate  and  most  captivating  woman.  I  re- 
ceived the  following  letter  from  Lady  Sophia,!  written  just  before  her 
death : — 

*  Ilia  cousin,  the  Rev.  Roderick  Macleod,  in  Skye,  who  was  notorious  for  hia 
strict  exercise  of  ecclesiastical  discipline. 

t  A  sort  of  covered  pulpit  put  up  in  the  open  air,  from  which  the  clergyman 
preaches  when  the  crowd  is  too  great  for  the  church. 

t  Afterwards  married  to  John,  Second  Marquess  of  Bute,  and  mother  of  the  pre- 
sent Lord  Bute.     The  marriage  ceremony  was  performed  by  Norman  Macleod. 


EARLY  MINISTRY  IN  LOUDOUN.  97 

"  Kelburne,  Thursday  night,  January  9,  1840. 

"  When  this  letter  is  given  to  you  my  poor  mother  will  be  at  rest;  but 
for  fear  that  the  new  flood  of  affliction  should  overwhelm  me  and  make  me 
incapable  of  fulfilling  my  duty  immediately,  I  will  write  this  now,  that 
there  may  be  no  delay,  as  you  must  receive  it  as  soon  as  possible.  When 
my  father  died,  he  desired  his  right  hand  should  be  amputated  and 
carried  from  Malta  to  be  buried  with  my  mother,  as  they  could  not  lie  in 
the  same  grave,  as  he  had  once  promised  her.  His  hand  is  in  the  vault 
at  Loudoun  Kirk,  I  am  told,  in  a  small  box,  with  the  key  hanging  to  it. 
My  mother  entrusted  you  with  the  key  of  the  vault,  and  begged  you  would 
give  it  to  no  one.  May  I  request  you  to  go  to  Loudoun  Kirk  and  take  out 
the  box  and  bring  it  here  to  me  yourself,  and  deliver  it  into  my  hands 
yourself,  should  my  brother  not  have  arrived  ]  And  I  believe  there  must  be 
no  delay — a  few  hours,  I  am  told,  will  end  her  suffering  and  begin  our  de- 
solation.' 

"  I  received  the  letter  early  on  Friday  morning ;  in  half  an  hour  I  was 
at  Loudoun  Kirk.  It  was  a  calm,  peaceful,  winter's  morning,  and  by 
twelve  I  was  at  Kelburne." 

To  the  Rev.  A.  Clerk,  Aharacle  : —  «<  January  28,  184". 

"I  am  very  happy  here— though  the  death  of  dear  Lady  Hastings  has 
made  a  great  change  to  me.  I  assure  you  that  few  events  have  given  me 
more  sincere  sorrow  than  this.  I  received  intelligence  at  seven  upon  Fri- 
day morning  that  she  was  near  her  end.  It  was  quite  unexpected;  and 
you  know  what  a  sickening  thing  it  is  to  be  awakened  with  bad  news.  I 
was  requested  by  Lady  Sophia  instantly  to  go  to  Loudoun  Kirk  and  get 
her  father's  hand  from  the  vault  and  bring  it  to  her.  In  half  an  hour  I 
was  in  the  dreary  place,  where,  but  six  months  ago,  I  was  standing  with 
Lady  H.  beside  me.  When  I  contrasted  the  scene  of  death  within,  the 
mouldering  coflins  and  'weeping  vault,'  with  the  peaceful  morning  and 
singing  birds — for  a  robin  was  singing  sweetly — it  was  sad  and  choking.  I 
was  glad  to  be  with  the  dear  young  ladies  the  first  day  of  their  grief.  They 
were  all  alone.  They  have  been  greatly  sanctified  by  their  trials.  They 
remain  at  Loudoun,  I  am  glad  to  say.  Lord  and  Lady  H.  are  here  at 
present.  - 

"  As  to  non-intrusion,  I  am  persuaded  you  are  wrong.  The  high  party 
is  destroying  the  Church." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"February,  1840. — The  question  of  non-intrusion  is  agitating  Scotland. 
This  is  the  day  for  trying  principles.  The  extreme  views  of  truly  good 
and  spiritual  men  in  the  Church,  and  those  of  truly  bad  and  material  men 
in  the  State,  will  bring  on  a  gale  which  will  capsize  her. 

"  June  2§th. — I  have  just  returned  from  seeing  the  most  melancholy 
sight  I  have  ever  yet  witnessed — a  determined,  hardened  infidel  on  the  very 

confines  of  eternity  !     I  met  this  unfortunate  man,  T C ,  for 

the  first  time  when  I  was  visiting  the  parish  ;  he  seemed  careless  and  dead, 
but  did  not  profess  infidelity. 

"  I  was  again  called  to  see  hioi  on  my  return  here  in  May,  after  having 

7  " 


98  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

been  abouta  month  absent  in  bad  health.  He  was  evidently  dying  of  consump- 
tion. He  was  greatly  emaciated,  but  could  converse  easily,  and  seemed  to 
be  able  to  express  himself  with  clearness.  I  had  heard  of  his  having 
avowed  infidel  sentiments,  and  I  knew  his  brother  to  be  one  of  the  baser 
sort,  filling  up  all  the  degrees  of  blackguardism  between  a  poacher  and  a 

blasphemer.     C spoke  freely  to  me  of  his  opinions,  if  opinions  they 

could  be  called.  He  had  met  with  some  of  the  lowest  kind  of  infidel  pro- 
ductions; his  whole  idea  of  truth  was  distorted.  He  seemed  to  doubt  the 
existence  of  God,  the  immortality  of  the  human  soul,  everything  which 
could  influence  him  as  a  responsible  being.  I  saw  him  repeatedly.  I  sat 
with  him  one  or  two  hours  at  a  time.  1  read  the  Bible  to  him,  gave  him 
the  evidence  in  detail,  and,  by  his  own  acknowledgment,  fairly  answered 
all  his  objections  ;  but  in  vain.  He  was  calm,  dead.  The  very  question 
did  not  seem  to  interest  him.  Every  warning,  every  invitation,  was  to  him 
alike.  His  features  changed  not ;  he  was  neither  pleased  nor  angry  ;  and 
yet  he  knew  he  had  not  many  weeks  to  live.  He  was  the  most  terrible 
instance  I  ever  saw  of  the  evil  heart  of  unbelief,  hardened  through  the 
deceitfulness  of  sin.  I  have  seen  him  for  the  last  time  to-day ;  he  was  a 
breathing  corpse.  Death  had  stamped  every  feature.  He  bent  his  eye  on 
me  as  I  entered,  and  motioned  me  to  come  in.  I  gazed  at  him  for  some 
time  with  inexpressible  feelings.  There  he  lay,  an  immortal  being — a 
sinner  going  to  meet  his  God,  after  having  again  and  again  rejected  a 
Saviour.  I  prayed  with  his  wife,  and  one  or  two  who  were  present.  I 
then  went  to  his  bed.  I  said,  '  Before  I  go  have  you  nothing  to  say  V  I 
wished  to  give  him  the  opportunity  of  expressing  his  faith  in  Christ,  if  he 
had  any ;  but  he  lifted  up  his  skeleton  hand,  and  panted  out,  '  No,  no ; 
noth— nothing  !'  As  I  write  this  his  soul  may  be  taking  flight.  May  God 
have  mercy  on  him. 

"  How  often  do  I  speculate  about  writing  books !  I  have  thought  of 
three ;  I  generally  think  over  a  chapter  of  one  of  theru_when  I  have  noth- 
ing else  to  do." 


o 


His  sister  Annie,  who  had  been  for  some  months  seriously  ill,  and 
was  sent  to  Loudoun  for  change  of  air,  became  at  this  time  rapidly 
worse,  and  expired  in  his  Manse. 

"  September  5th,  10  o'clock. — I  have  tfiis  moment  returned  from  the  next 
room,  after  seeing  my  darling  sister  Annie  expire.  She  had  suffered  much 
for  three  days;  but  her  last  moments  were  comparatively  tranquil,  at  least, 
those  who  have  seen  people  die  said  so ;  but  I  never  saw  any  one  die  be- 
fore. We  were  summoned  to  her  bedside  suddenly.  When  I  came,  all 
were  there.  I  prayed  a  short,  ejaculatory  prayer,  that  our  Father  would 
take  His  child ;  that  Christ,  the  dear  Redeemer,  would  be  hers.  My  dar- 
ling died  at  half-past  nine. 

"  Darling  Annie  was  loved  by  us  all.  She  was  a  sweet  child  ;  her  face 
was  beautifully  mild  and  peaceful.  She  had  the  most  gentle,  playful,  peace- 
ful, innocent  manners,  with  feelings  singularly  deep  and  strong  lor  her  age. 
Her  sensibility  was  painful  in  its  acuteness.     She  was  like  a  delightiul 

presence — 

"  '  An  image  mv. 
A  thing  to  startle  and  waj  lay.' 


EARL  Y  MINIS  Til  Y  IN  LOUDO  UN.  99 

She  was  a  sunbeam  that  gladdened  our  path,  and  we  were  hardly  conscious 
of  how  lovely  and  how  evanescent  a  thing  it  was  until  it  disappeared.  Her 
innocent  laugh  is  still  in  my  ears.  Dead  !  Oh,  what  a  mystery  !  It  was 
only  when,  two  hours  after  her  death,  I  knelt  at  my  old  chair,  and  cried  to 
Jesus,  that  I  felt  myself  human  once  more,  and  as  I  gave  vent  to  a  flood 
of  tears  the  ice  that  for  months  had  chilled  my  soul  was  melted  ;  I 
felt  again. 

"  tieptemler  lGth. — Upon  Friday  the  11th  dear  Annie  was  buried.  I 
look  back  upon  the  week  she  lay  with  us  with  a  sort  of  solemn  joy.  It  was 
a  holy  week.  The  blessing  of  God  seemed  upon  the  house.  Friday  was  a 
very  impressive  day.  Mr.  Gray,  Jack,  and  my  father  and  I,  went  together 
from  Glasgow  to  Campsie.  Our  old  friends  met  us  at  the  entrance  of  Len- 
noxtown.  It  seemed  but  as  yesterday  when  we  had  in  mournful  procession 
passed  up  that  path  before.  The  hills  were  the  same.  The  same  shadows 
seemed  chasing  one  another  over  their  green  sides  as  had  often  filled  me 
with  happy  thoughts  in  my  young  days.  Yet  how  freshly  did  the  text 
come  into  my  mind,  "  The  mountains  shall  depart,  and  the  hills  be  removed, 
but  My  kindness  shall  not  depart  from  thee,  neither  shall  the  covenant  of 
My  peace  be  removed,  saith  the  Lord  that  hath  mercy  on  Thee.'  This 
relieved  my  oppressed  heart.  I  felt  that  amidst  all  the  changes  around  me, 
God,  and  God's  love,  were  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever.  What 
a  glorious  thing  is  Revelation !  '  Christ  died,  and  rose  again.'  '  He  died 
for  us.'  '  He  rose  as  the  first  fruits  of  those  who  sleep.'  There  is  more 
wisdom,  more  comfort,  more  to  heal,  soothe,  elevate  the  spirit  of  man  in 
these  facts  than  in   all  that  the  concentrated  wisdom  of  man  could  offer." 

To  his  Mother  :—  «<  Loudoun,  1841. 

"  I  have  been,  and  will  be,  if  God  spares  me,  this  winter  very  busy  edu- 
cating both  myself  and  my  parish  ;  but  I  never  felt  myself  in  more  buoyant 
health  and  spirits.  I  have  finished  the  second  visitation  of  Darvel  and 
Newmilns — that  is,  about  seven  thousand  people — since  I  came  to  the 
parish.  On  Sabbath  week  our  service  begins  at  twelve,  and  A'om  ten  till  half- 
past  eleven  I  am  to  have  a  Sabbath  School,  which  I  hope  will  be  attended 
by  six  hundred  children.  Thus,  between  my  school  in  the  morning,  and 
sermcn  at  mid-day  and  at  night,  I  will  be  able  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  all 
in  my  parish  !  Is  not  this  famous  1  I  have,  besides  my  old  Wednesday 
evening  meeting,  a  class  for  young  men  on  Tuesday  evenings  for  instruction 
in  the  evidences  of  Christianity.  I  am  now  going  through  the  prophecies. 
The  family  of  the  chief  infidel  are  among  my  scholars.  This  seems  hard 
work,  but  I  assure  you  I  am  taking  it  very  easy.  There  is  not  a  black- 
smith, or  labourer,  or  weaver  in  the  parish  who  does  not  do  ten  times  more 
for  time  than  I  do  for  eternity.  People  talk  a  great  deal  of  stuff  about 
minister's  work,  or  rather  they  talk  a  great  deal  of  stuff  themselves.  I 
would  do  more,  but  quality  and  not  quantity  is  what  I  wish.  To  show 
you  how  much  idle  time  I  have,  besides  walking,  and  teaching  a  starling  to 
speak,  I  have  read,  1st,  Guizot's  'History  of  Civilization;'  2nd,  Arago's 
'Treatise  on  Astronomy;'  3rd,  Taylor's  'Lectures  on  Spiritual  Christianity;' 
4th,  '  Cam j »bell  of  Kingsland,  Life  and  Times;'  and  I  have  nearly  done 
with  the  iklh  volume  oi  Gibbon — all  during  the  last  five  weeks  !  This 
shows  you  what  a  luxurious  dog  I  am. 


100  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 


a 


'I  have  just  mentioned  my  starling!  Yon  never  saw  a  more  beautiful 
bird;  and  lie  goes  flying  about  the  room,  and  sits  on  my  bead,  and  eats 
out  of  my  band.     I  am  teaching  him  to  speak. 

"I  wrote  Lord  Hastings  a  very  long  and  earnest  letter  about  the  church, 
but  have  received  no  answer.  I  shall  do  my  duty,  and  use  every  lawful 
means  to  get  a  church  for  my  poor  people,  come  what  may. 

"There  is  a  book  I  wish  you  would  order  for  your  Reading  Club — Dr. 
Payne  of  Exeter's  Lectures  on  the  Sovereignty  of  God.  It  has  revolu- 
tionised my  mind.  It  is  a  splendid  book,  and  demonstrates  the  universality 
of  the  atonement,  and  its  harmony  with  election." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  July  ith. — I  went  to  Glasgow  on  Tuesday  to  meet  two  sons  of  Sir 
Robert  Peel's.  Fine  lads,  fresh  with  honours  from  Harrow.  Put  I  men- 
tion this  fact  to  show  how  unsettled  my  mind  is,  for  it  upset  my  good 
thoughts — I  mean,  made  me  neglect  the  means  of  grace,  and  so  I  got  for  a  day 
into  my  old  way.  God  forgive  me!  I  look  back  on  the  last  month  as  to 
an  oasis." 

In  sending  the  following  letter,  Principal  Shairp  writes:  — 

'•'All  the  remainder  of  his  time  in  Loudoun  I  kept  up  correspondence  with 
Norman  from  Oxford.  Those  were  the  years  from  1840  to  1844,  when  the 
Oxford  movement  reached  its  climax.  Often,  when  any  pamphlet  more 
than  usually  striking  came  out — No.  90,  and  others — I  would  send  them  to 
Norman,  and  would  receive  from  him  a  reply  commenting  on  them  from 
his  own  point  of  view.  That,  I  need  hardly  say,  was  not  in  accordance 
with  the  Oxford  views.  It  was  not  only  that  he  rejected  the  sacerdotal 
theory  on  which  the  whole  movement  was  founded, — not  only  that,  as  a 
Scotchman  and  a  Presbyterian  minister,  he  could  not  be  expected  to  wel- 
come the  view  which  made  his  own  church  'Samaria,'  and  handed  himself 
and  his  people  over  to  the  'uncovenanted  mercies;'  but  I  used  to  think  that 
neither  then,  nor  afterwards,  he  ever  did  full  justice  to  the  higher,  more 
inward  quality  of  Newman's  teaching,  that  those  marvellous  'Parochial 
Sermons'  never  penetrated  him  as  they  did  others.  That  sad  undertone  of 
feeling,  that  severe  and  ascetic  piety,  which  had  so  great  a  charm  for  many, 
awoke  in  Norman  but  little  sympathy." 

To  JonN  C.  Shaiep,  Esq.,  at  Oxford  :—  «<  o~(h  March. 

"Well,  what  think  you  of  Puseyism  now?  You  have  read  No.  90,  of 
course;  you  have  read  the  article  on  Transubstantiation — you  have  read  it! 
Great  heaA ens!  Is  this  1841?  I  have  drawn  the  following  conclusions 
from  this  precious  document,  and  from  Newman's  letter  to  Jelf: — 

"1.  The  articles  mean  nothing. 

"  2.  Any  man  may  sign  them  conscientiously,  be  he  Calvinist  or  moderate 
Romanist,  only  let  him  not  oppose  them  openly. 

"  3.  No  Oxford  man  need  go  to  Romanism  either  to  adore  (doulia)  im- 
ages, or  praise  the  Plessed  Virgin,  or  get  a  lift  from  the  saints,  or  gratify 
himself  by  doing  works  of  penance — he  may  get  all  this  in  a  quiet  way  at 
Oxford. 


EARL  Y  MINTS TR  Y  IN  L 0  LID 0  UN.  101 

"4.  The  Anglican  system  and  the  Popish  system,  as  explained  by  the 
Council  of*  Trent,  are  'like,  so  very  like  as  day  to  day,'  that,  but  for  a  few- 
fleecy  clouds  of  no  great  consequence,  a  Catholic  mind  would  never  see  the 
difference. 

•"  5.  No.  90  is  a  dispatch  to  the  Popish  army  to  send  a  few  moderate 
battalions  to  support  the  Anglican  Church  in  its  flank  movement  to  the  left 
from  the  corps  d'armee  of  Protestantism. 

"  And  what  is  all  this  to  end  in  1 

"  The  formation  of  an  Anglo- Popish  Church,  independent  of  the  State  1 

"  The  consequent  breaking  up  of  Church  Establishments  ? 

"  The  formation  of  two  Churches — a  moderate  Episcopacy  connected  with 
the  State,  and  another,  'the  Anglican  Church,'  by  itself] 

"  An  accession  to  the  ranks  of*  dissent  1 

"  The  strengthening  of  Popery,  and  the  battle  of  Armageddon  V 


NOTES  AND  THOUGHTS  FPvOM  READING,  THINKING,  AND 

LAUGHING. 

"  Loudoun,  November  I,  1840. 

"  Under  the  influence  of  one  of  those  whims  which  sometimes  act  upon 
me  like  a  breeze  upon  a  windmill,  I  this  Saturday  night,  27th  February, 
1841,  open  this  book  (being  at  present,  with  the  exception  of  whatgoeth  be- 
fore, as  yet  empty,  albeit  it  is  called  a  Book  for  Notes  and  Thoughts),  for 
what  reason  I  can  hardly  tell,  except  it  be  : 

"  1.  The  wish  to  put  on  record  a  strong  suspicion  I  now  begin  to  enter- 
tain— viz.,  that  I  have  no  thoughts  which  can  stand  inspection,  better  than 
did  Mouldy  or  Mr.  Forcible  Feeble,  the  woman's  tailor,  before  Falstaff. 

"  2.  To  put  to  the  proof  one  of  those  sayings  which  men  believe,  like 
'great  laws,'  that  a  work  begun  is  half  done.    We  shall  see." 


"June,  1841. 

"  On  the  Salvability  of  tiie  Heathen. — That  no  soul  is  saved  except 
through  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  that  no  soul  is  saved  without  belief  in 
Christ,  are  not  equally  true  propositions ;  for,  if  so,  all  infants  would  be 
damned.  Now,  as  all  admit  that  infants  may  without  faith  (of  which  they 
are  incapable  from  their  age)  be  saved  by  having  the  benefits  of  Christ's 
death  imputed  to  them,  so,  for  aught  we  know,  heathen,  who  are  incapable 
of  faith  from  their  circumstances,  may  have  the  benefits  of  Christ's  death  in 
the  same  manner,  and  so  their  natural  piety  will  be  the  effect  and  not  the 
cause  of  God's  showing  mercy  to  them.  We  preach  to  such  because  we  are 
commanded.  God  may  raise  a  sick  man  by  a  miracle  ;  but  our  duty  is  to  use 
the  appointed  means." 


"  A  day  of  fasting  for  the  sins  of  the  Church  has  been  appointed  by  the 
General  Assembly  to  be  kept  on  the  22nd  of  June,  1841.  I  fear  some  will 
add  to  its  sin  by  fathering  the  most  heinoiis  faults  upon  those  who  oppose 
them  in  Church  politics.     One  rule,  I  think,  should  be  strictly  kept  to  in 


102  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

determining  what  are  sins — viz.,  those  upon  which  all  Christians  will  agree. 
Thei-e  may  be  disputes  about  facts — e.  g.,  as  to  whether  the  Church  is  covet- 
ous or  not — but  thei'e  should  be  no  disputes  as  to  whether  that  is  sin  or  not. 
This  rule  would  exclude  confessions  anent  patronage,  intrusion,  &c.  The 
Church  should  have  drawn  up  a  form  of  prayer,  and  of  confession — a  unan- 
imous one.  The  sins  I  consider  as  being  the  most  marked  in  the  Church  at 
present  are  :  1.  Covetousness — only  £20,000  from  the  whole  Church  for  the 
cause  of  Christ ;  not  £20  from  each  parish  !  2.  Too  much  mingling  of  the 
Church  with  the  world ;  not  separation  enough.  3.  Schism  among  Christ- 
ians, and  wrong  terms  of  communion.  4.  Strife,  bitterness,  and  party  spirit; 
a  want  of  charity  and  love ;  a  not  suffering  for  conscience-sake.  5.  Too 
much  dependence  on  externals,  acts  of  Assembly  anent  calls,  &c. 

"The  Church  visible  is  to  the  Church  invisible  what  the  body  is  to  the 
spirit —  the  medium  of  communication  with  the  external  world.  As  the 
body  without  the  soul  is  dead,  though  it  may  look  life-like,  even  so  is  the 
visible  Church  without  the  invisible.  The  Presbyterians,  I  think,  legislat- 
ed too  transcendentally  for  the  Church.  "We  forgot  how  much  we  are  taught 
by  visible  things.  We  did  not  sufficiently  value  symbols.  Popery  makes 
the  Church  a  body  altogether.  We  forget  too  much  that  there  is  a  visible 
Church ;  they  that  there  is  an  invisible. 

"As  for  Church  government,  I  always  look  on  it  as  a  question  of  dress,  of 
clothes — or,  rather,  of  spectacles.  What  suits  one  eye  won't  suit  another. 
What  signifies  whether  a  man  reads  with  the  gold  spectacles  of  Episcopacy 
or  with  the  silver  ones  of  Presbytery  or  with  the  pinchbeck  ones  of  Inde- 
pendence, provided  he  does  read,  and  reads  better  too  with  the  one  kind 
than  the  other,  and  does  not  blind  himself  with  the  goggles  of  Popery  ? 
Though  I  hate  schism,  yet  I  do  think  that  different  governments  are  ordered 
in  the  wisdom  of  God,  who  knoweth  our  fame  and  remembers  we  are  dust, 
to  suit  the  different  conditions  of  man.  One  man  is  born  with  huge  venera- 
tion like  a  ridge  on  his  head,  ideality  like  hillocks;  another  with  neither  of 
these  bumps,  but  in  their  stead  causality  or  i*easoning  like  potatoes,  firmness 
like  Ailsa  Craig;  another  with  combativeness.  self-esteem,  and  love  of  appro- 
bation, like  hen-eggs.  Is  it  not  a  blessing  that  there  is  for  the  one  an  old 
cathedral  with  stone  knights  and  'casements  pictured  fair,'  and  seats  worn 
with  successive  generations,  and  a  fine  bald-headed  prelate;  and  that  another 
can  get  a  Presbyterian  Church  that  will  stand  firm  against  Erastus,  Court 
of  Session,  Kings,  Lords,  and  Commons,  and  can  hear  long  metaphysical 
sermons  canvassing  every  system;  and  that  the  last  can  have  his  say  in  an 
Indepandent  Church,  and  battle  with  minister  and  elder:  while,  in  each, 
they  can  hear  what  will  make  them  wise  unto  salvation?  All  are  spectacles 
for  different  eyes;  and  why  fight? — why  force  a  man  to  see  through  your 
concave,  or  be  forced  to  read  through  his  convex?  You  will  both  read 
wrong,  or  not  read  at  all. 

"I  hate  schism.     It  is  a  great  sin  to  have  a  visible  Church  unless  you  ftei 
that  it  is  only  a  door  to  the  invisible  one. 

"To  reform  Presbyterianism  is  like  the  attempt  to  skin  a  flint." 


"I  read  lately  a  very  interesting  book  published  bv  the  Abbotsford  Club; 
viz.,  'Records  of  the  Presbytery  of  Lanark  from  lbo2  till  1701.'  It  is,  I 
presume,  a  fair  type  of  what  the  Church  then  was;  and  ii  so ! — 


EA  HL  7  MINIS  TR  Y  IN  LOU  DO  UN.  103 

"The  Church  then  wished  to  make  the  Church  the  State,  and  the  State 
the  Church.  The  men  in  those  days  had  no  idea  of  true  liberty.  Tolera- 
tion is  a  modern  idea.  Their  maxims  were:  1.  You  have  liberty  to  think 
what  is  right,  but  none  to  think  what  is  wrong.  We  (the  Church)  are  to 
judge  what  is  right;  ergo,  you  can  think  only  as  we  permit  you  (see  also 
'Confession  of  Faith,' chap,  xx.,  last  clause).  They  were  a  grossly  super- 
stitious set.  The  above  Presbytery  frequently  incarcerated  witches,  and 
sent  for  a  great  ally  of  theirs,  a  certain  '  George  Catley,  Pricker,'  to  riddle 
the  old  woman  with  pins  to  find  out  the  mark  of  Satan.  And  yet  to  these 
men  we  must  go  for  wisdom  to  guide  us  in  1841  !  Mercy  forbid!  I  am 
thankful  to  have  none  such  Presbyterian  inquisitors. 

"The  tendency  of  ultra-Calvinism  (if  not  its  necessary  result)  is  to  fill  the 
mind  with  dark  views  of  the  Divine  character;  to  represent  Him  as  grudg- 
ing to  make  men  happy;  as  exacting  from  Christ  stripe  for  stripe  that  the 
sinner  deserved.  Hence  a  Calvinistic  fanatic  has  the  same  scowling,  dark, 
unloving  soul  as  a  Franciscan  or  Dominican  fanatic  who  whips  himself  daily 
to  please  Deity.  They  won't  enjoy  life;  they  won't  laugh  without  atoning 
for  the  sin  by  a  groan;  they  won't  indulge  in  much  hope  or  joy;  they  more 
easily  and  readily  entertain  doctrines  which  go  to  prove  how  many  may  be 
damned  than  how  many  may  be  saved;  because  ail  this  seems  to  suit  their 
views  of  God's  character,  and  to  be  more  agreeable  to  Him  than  a  cheerful 
loving  bearing. 

"  A  Calvinistic  enthusiast  and  an  Arminian  fanatic  are  seldom  met  with." 

".  .  .  No  creature  knows  the  unity  of  truth,  or  rather  the  whole  of  any 
truth.  Each  truth  is  but  a  part  of  a  system.  That  system  radiates  from 
God,  the  centre:  the  radii  are  innumerable.  A  poor  being  called  man  lights 
for  a  moment,  like  a  fly,  upon  one  of  the  spokes  of  this  awful  wheel,  which 
is  so  high  that  'it  is  dreadful,  and  full  of  eyes;'  and,  as  it  moves,  he  thinks 
that  he  understands  its  mighty  movements  and  the  revolution  of  the  whole 
system ! 

"  A  truth  which  explains  another,  but  which  cannot  be  explained,  is  to 
us  a  mystery.  As  we  advance  along  the  chain  of  truth,  beginning  at  the 
lowest  link,  mystery  ascends  before  us — God  Himself,  Who  is  Truth,  and 
to  Whom  we  approach  for  ever,  but  never  reach  !" 


"  Dr.  Payne  of  Exeter's  book,  '  On  the  Sovereignty  of  God,'  is  one  of  the 
best  I  ever  read.  It  has  been  a  ring-fence  to  a  thousand  scattered  ideas  I 
have  had  on  the  subjects  of  which  it  treats.  On  election  and  atonement  I 
think  he  is  invincible.  That  Christ  died  for  all,  or  none,  seems  as  clear  to 
me  as  day,  not  merely  from  the  distinct  declaration  of  Scripture,  but  from 
the  idea  of  an  atonement.  If  the  stripe  for  stripe  theory  is  given  up,  which 
it  must  be,  a  universal  atonement  is  the  consequence.  The  sufficiency  of 
Christ's  death  and  its  universality  are  one  and  the  same.  Election  has  only 
to  do  with  its  application." 


"  The  freedom  of  a  man  quoad  civilia,  as  well  as  quoad  spiritualia,  Avill 
ever  be  in  proportion  to  the  sense  entertained  by  himself  and  others  of  his 
dignity  and  worth.     Hence  the  connection  between  Christianity  and  civil 


104  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

liberty,  and  hence  the  folly  of  Chartists  and  Revolutionists,  and  all  who  love 
or  pretend  to  love  the  freedom  of  man,  opposing  the  Bible,  which  alone 
makes  known  man's  dignity ;  denouncing  ministers  who  every  Sabbath 
proclaim  it,  and  urge  men  to  know  and  believe  it ;  destroying  the  Lord's 
Day,  a  day  when  this  dignity  is  visibly  seen  by  men  meeting  on  the  same 
spiritual  platform — the  same  level ;  and  refusing  Church  extension,  which 
is  but  a  means  for  bringing  those  blessings  to  the  masses,  and  thus  of  help- 
ing them  to  obtain,  use,  and  preserve  freedom." 


"  Much  struck  with  a  remark  in  Coleridge's  'Friend,'  'that  the  deepest 
and  strongest  feelings  of  our  nature  combine  with  the  obscure  and  shadowy 
rather  than  with  the  clear  and  palpable.'  Hence  I  say  :  1st,  The  fierceness 
of  fanatics ;  2nd,  Fierceness  of  the  ignorant  in  politics  and  of  the  mob. 
This  accounts  for  a  fact  I  have  always  noticed — viz.,  that  in  proportion  to 
one's  ignorance  of  a  question  is  his  wrath  and  uncharitableness,  if  his  feel- 
ings are  but  once  engaged." 


"  Truth  may  be  recognised  in  the  spirit  when  it  is  indistinctly  seen  by 
the  intellect.  No  false  proof  should  be  removed  which  tends  to  good,  until 
a  true  one  is  ready  to  replace  it. 

"  Shelley  and  Wordsworth  have  more  power  than  any  men  I  know  of 
making  visible  invisible  things.  See,  for  instance,  Shelley's  poem,  '  To  a 
cloud,'  Wordsworth's  ode  on  'Intimations  of  Immortality.'  Keats  fre- 
quently displays  in  a  marvellous  manner  the  same  gift  ('Magic  casements 
opening  on  the  foam,'  'Ode  to  the  Nightingale'),  and  so  does  Sir  Thomas 
Browne,  in  his  '  B«ligio  Medici'  and  '  Urn  Burial.'  If  we  were  to  remain 
long  herej  growing  in  feeling  like  the  angels,  we  would  require  an  algebra 
— new  symbols — for  new  thoughts." 


"  There  are  some  men  who,  if  left  alone,  are  as  cold  as  pokers  ;  but  like 
pokers,  if  they  are  once  thrust  into  the  fire,  they  become  red  hot,  and  add 
to  the  general  blaze.  Such  are  some  ministers  I  know,  when  they  get  into 
Church  controversies." 

"  I  am  not  surprised  at  David's  praying  to  God  in  the  night-watches ;  in 
his  rising  from  his  bed  and  ascending  to  the  roof  of  his  house,  and  when  the 
'  mighty  heart'  of  the  city  '  was  lying  still,'  and  '  the  mountains  which  sur- 
rounded Jerusalem '  were  sleeping  in  the  calm  brilliancy  of  an  Eastern 
night,  that  he  should  gaze  with  rapture  on  the  sky,  and  pour  forth  such  a 
beautiful  Psalm  of  Praise  as  '  When  I  consider  the  heavens,  the  work  of 
Thy  fingers.' 

"  The  night  is  more  suited  to  prayer  than  the  day.  I  never  awake  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  without  feeling  induced  to  commune  with  God. 
One  feels  brought  more  into  contact  with  Him.  The  whole  world  around 
us,  we  think,  is  asleep.  God  the  Shepherd  of  Israel  slumbers  not,  nor 
sleeps.  He  is  awake,  and  so  are  we  !  We  feel,  in  the  solemn  and  silent 
night,  as  if  alone  with  God.  And  then  there  is  everything  in  the  circum- 
stances around  you  to  lead  you  to  pray.  The  past  is  often  vividly  recalled. 
The  voices  ot  the  dead  are  heard,  and  their  forms  crowd  around  you.      No 


EABL  Y  MINIS  Tit  Y  IN  LO  UD  OUN.  105 

sleep  can  bind  them.  The  night  seems  the  time  in  winch  they  should  hold 
spiritual  commune  with  man.  The  future,  too,  throws  its  dark  shadow 
over  you — the  night  of  the  grave,  the  certain  death  bed,  the  night  in  which 
no  man  can  work.  And  then  everything  makes  such  an  impression  on  the 
mind  at  night,  when  the  brain  is  nervous  and  susceptible  ;  the  low  sough 
of  the  wind  among  the  trees,  the  roaring,  or  eerie  whish  of  some  neighbour- 
ing stream,  the  bark  or  low  howl  of  a  dog,  the  general  impressive  silence, 
all  tend  to  sober,  to  solemnize  the  mind,  and  to  force  it  from  the  world  and 
its  vanities,  which  then  seem  asleep,  to  God,  who  alone  can  uphold  and 
defend." 


<< 


A  holy  mind  is  like  Herschell's  large  telescope,  it  sees  by  its  great 
power  heavenly  truth  much  more  distinctly  than  an  unrenewed  mind  can, 
and  also  many  others  which  are  altogether  unseen  and  unknown  to  others. 
But  by  the  same  enlarged  powers  which  enable  it  to  see  the  glories  of  the 
heavens,  is  it  able  also,  nay,  cannot  choose  but  see  the  dust  and  filth  in  the 
atmosphere  of  earth ;  let  the  instrument,  however,  be  removed  to  a  higher 
and  purer  region,  and  then  it  will  '  see  clearly,  and  not  as  through  a  glass 
darkly.' 

"  Is  the  gift  of  saving  faith  the  gift  of  a  telescope — a  power  to  see  truths 
which  are  unseen  by  the  common  eye1?  or  is  it  the  removing  of  mists  and 
clouds  that  conceal  truths,  which  but  for  those  mists  may  be  seen  by  every 
eye? 

"November,  1841. — Read  Arago's  'Treatise  on  Astronomy.'  It  is  very 
simple. 

"  I  sometimes  like  to  fancy  things  about  the  stars.  May  there  not  be 
moral  systems  as  well  as  physical  ?  Moral  wholes  or  plans ;  a  portion  of 
the  plan  being  carried  on  in  one  world,  and  another  in  another  world,  so 
that,  like  different  pieces  of  a  machine,  or  like  the  different  stars  themselves, 
the  whole  must  be  put  together  and  examined  before  the  plan  can  be  under- 
stood ?  The  world  may  be  a  moral  centre ;  the  centre  being  the  ci-oss  ;  from 
which  moral  radii  extend  throughout  the  moral  universe.  Physical  space- 
and  moral  space  have  no  connection.  It  used  to  be  an  old  question  how 
many  angels  could  dance  on  the  point  of  a  needle  ;  but  it  had  a  glimmer  of 
wisdom  too,  for  it  arose  from  a  feeling  that  spiritual  things  bear  no  relation 
to  space.     May  there  not  be  moral  constellations  1" 


MUSIC. 

"  Irish  Music. — My  father  once  saw  some  emigrants  from  Lochaber 
dancing  on  the  deck  of  the  emigrant  ship,  and  weeping  their  eyes  out ! 
This  feeling  is  the  mother  of  Irish  music. 

"  It  expresses  the  struggle  of  a  buoyant,  merry  heart,  to  get  quit  of 
thoughts  that  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears.  It  is  the  music  of  an  oppressed, 
conquered — but  deeply  feeling,  impressible,  fanciful  and  generous  people. 
It  is  for  the  harp  in  Tara's  Halls. 

"  Scotch  Music. — A  bonny  lassie  with  her  plaid,  reclining  in  some 
pastoral  glen  among  the  braes  of  Yarrow,  and  waking  the  sleep  that  is 
among  the  lonely  hills  with  some  tale  of  love,  domestic  sorrow,  or  of  '  the 
flowers  of  the  forest,  a'  wede  awaV 


106  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  Highland  Music. — Tlie  pibroch  ;  tlie  music  of  the  past  and  gone,  of 
lonely  lakes,  castled  promontories,  untrodden  valleys  and  extinguished 
feuds,  wild  superstitions,  and  of  a  feudal  glory  and  an  age  of  romance  and 
song  which  have  fled  on  their  dun  wings  from  Morven.  It  is  fit  only  for 
the  lai-ge  bag-pipe  in  the  hall  of  an  old  castle,  with  thuds  of  wind  and  the 
dash  of  billows  as  its  only  accompaniment. 

"  It  is  deep  sorrow  that  is  checked  by  lofty  pride  from  breaking. 

"  '  Let  foemen  rage  and  discord  burst  in  slaughter. 
Ah  then  for  clansmen  true  and  stern  claymore  ! 
The  hearts  that  would  have  shed  their  blood  like  water, 
Now  heavily  beat  beyond  the  Atlantic's  roar.' 

"  German  Music. — The  music  of  the  intellect  and  thought :  passion  modi- 
fied by  high  imagination.  It  is  essentially  Gothic,  vast  and  grand.  It  is 
for  man.  The  shadow  of  the  Brocken  is  over  it ;  the  solemn  sound  of  the 
Rhine  and  Danube  pervade  it.     It  is  an  intellectual  gale. 

"  French  Music. — A  dashing  cavalry  officer  on  his  way  to  fight  or  make 
love. 

"  Italian  Music. — A  lovely  woman,  a  Corinne,  breathing  forth  her  soul 
under  the  influence  of  one  deep  and  strong  passion,  beneath  a  summer  mid- 
night sky  amidst  the  ruins  of  ancient  Roman  grandeur.  It  is  immensely 
sensuous. 

"  Spanish  Music. — A  hot  night,  disturbed  by  a  guitar. 

"  American  Music. — '  Yankee-doodle.' " 


"December,  1841. — I  am  much  mistaken  in  the  signs  of  the  times,  if  an 
episcopal  era  is  not  near  for  Scotland's  ecclesiastical  history.  To  form  an 
Episcopalian  Church  quoad  spiritualia,  we  have,  1st,  The  old  and  respect- 
able and  unchanged  Episcopalian  families  of  Scotland.  2nd,  the  lovers  of 
fashion  more  than  the  lovers  of  God — the  families  who  spend  a  poi'tion  of 
their  time  in  London,  and  who  like  a  '  gentlemanly  religion.'  3rd,  The  rich 
merchants,  who  wish  to  wear  the  new  polish,  and  to  look  like  old  State 
furniture ;  who,  by  buying  country-houses,  by  marrying  into  good  families, 
by  getting  hold  of  a  property  with  an  old  title,  and  by  joining  an  old  form 
of  worship,  labour  to  persuade  the  world  that  they  never  sold  timber  or 
sugar  since  they  supplied  the  Ark  with  these  commodities.  4th,  The  meek 
and  pious  souls  who  love  to  eat  their  bread  in  peace,  and  who,  weary  of  the 
turmoil  in  our  Church,  flee  to  the  peace  of  the  Church  of  England,  which 
seems  to  reflect  the  unchangeableness  of  the  Church  invisible.  5th,  The 
red-hot  Tories,  who  fly  from  disgust  at  the  Radicalism  of  our  Church. 

"  The  only  checks  I  see  to  this  tide,  which  I  fear  will  set  in  for  Episco- 
pacy, are  :  1st,  Puseyism,  which  treats  us  as  heathen,  and  will  tend  to 
disgust.  2nd,  That  the  Church  of  Scotland  is  the  Establishment.  3rd, 
That  unless  Episcopacy  is  endowed  it  cannot  advance  far.  4th,  That  if  it 
attempts  to  get  an  endowment,  we  must  checkmate  it  by  trying  the  same 
for  our  churches  in  England,  and  we  would  do  more  harm  to  Episcopacy 
in  England,  than  they  can  to  Presbyterianisui  in  Scotland." 


"The  infidel  and  the  superstitious    equally  disregard  the  authority  of 
evidence.     The  one  disbelieves  in  spite  of  evidence  for  the  thing  rejected  ; 


EARL Y  MINIS TR Y  IN  LOUDOUN.  107 

the  other  believes,  in  spite  of  the  want  of  evidence  for  the  thing  received. 
Hence  Popery  and  Infidelity  are  so  closely  allied.  Submission  to  the 
authority  of  evidence  is  the  only  safeguard  against  either. 

"  Sabbath  morning. — I  put  some  bread  for  the  birds  on  the  window,  and 
thought  if  God  made  me  so  kind  to  birds,  He  must  be  kind  to  His  own 
creatures — to  His  own  children.  By-and-by  two  chaffinches  came  and 
fought  for  the  bread,  and  one  was  beaten  off;  and  yet  there  was  abun- 
dance for  both.  Alas  !  how  many  who  are  richly  provided  for  by  God 
thus  fight  about  the  bread  of  life,  rather  than  partake  of  it  together  in 
peace  and  thankfulness.  The  robin  is  eating,  but  with  what  terror  ! 
picking  and  starting  as  if  an  enemy  were  near.  Thus  do  Christians  par- 
take as  if  the  Lord  grudged  what  He  gives — as  if  He  would  not  rejoice  that 
they  took  abundance." 

"  The  best  consistency  is  to  be  consistent  to  one's  self,  by  acting  every 
day  up  to  the  light  of  that  day.  To  be  governed  not  by  any  fixed  point  ab 
extra,  but  by  the  conscience  ab  intra,  which  will  vary  its  judgments  with 
every  change  of  our  position.  The  traveller  who  guides  his  steps  in  relation 
to  one  object,  such  as  a  mountain,  who  wishes  to  keep  always  at  the  same 
distance  from  that,  may,  indeed,  keep  moving  and  apparently  advancing, 
but  he  is  travelling  in  a  circle  round  the  one  object ;  but  he  who  is  guided 
by  the  path  will  always  be  changing  his  relative  position,  and  every  step 
makes  him  inconsistent  with  the  scenery ;  but  he  moves  on  and  on,  and 
advances  into  new  countries,  and  reaches  his  journey's  end. 

"  Know  thyself,  and  be  true  to  thyself  !     Thou  art  in  the  way  of  truth. 

"The  only  "consistent  mariner  is  he  who  steers  by  the  compass,  though  he 
is  drifted  leagues  out  of  his  course." 


"  If  Christ  did  not  die  for  all  men,  how  can  it  be  said  that  God  willeth  all 
men  to  be  saved  ]  Can  He  will  any  to  be  saved  for  whom  there  is  no 
atonement  1 

"  If  Christ  did  not  die  for  all  men,  in  what  sense  is  He  said  to  be  the 
Saviour  of  all  men,  though  specially  of  those  who  believe  ? 

"  If  Christ  did  not  die  for  all  men,  how  can  all  men  be  commanded  to 
believe  ?  What  are  they  to  believe  1  Is  this  not  inviting  to  a  supper  in- 
sufficient to  feed  all  the  guests  if  they  came  1  If  it  is  said  '  God  knows  they 
won't  come.'  I  reply,  this  is  charging  God  with  conduct  man  would  be 
ashamed  of.  If  He  died,  and  they  may,  yet  won't  believe,  this  is  moral 
guilt,  not  natural  inability.  It  is  the  guilt  of  the  drunkard  who  cannot 
give  up  drinking ;  not  the  guilt  of  the  man  without  legs  who  cannot  walk, 
which  is  no  guilt  at  all." 


a1 


"  Sin,  like  an  angle,  does  not  become  greater  or  smaller  by  being  produced 
ad  infinitum." 

"  It  is  a  pleasing  thought  that  there  cannot  be  different  kinds  of  minds, 
as  there  are  different  kinds  of  bodies.  Bodies  have  no  type  of  perfection,  to 
which  they  are  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  conformed ;  no  normal  form  after 
which  they  are  modelled,  their  degrees  of  penection  depending  on  the  near- 
ness to  which  they  come  to  this  model.     The  zoophyte,  or  the  hydra  polype, 


1U8  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

is  as  perfect  an  animal  as  the  elephant,  as  its  parts  are  perfectly  constructed 
in  relation  to  the  end  it  is  destined  to  fulfil  in  the  creation.  But  it  is  not 
thus  with  mind.  It  has  a  type — an  image ;  and  that  is  God.  And  to  this 
image  it  must,  whenever  found  in  a  right  state  (one  according  to  God's  will 
and  intention),  be  in  conformity.  To  no  intellect  in  the  Universe  can  the 
relation  of  numbers  be  different  from  what  it  is  to  ours.  It  is  impossible 
that  God  would  ever  create  intellects  to  which  two  and  two  would  be  any- 
thing else  than  four.  So  in  regard  to  moral  things,  right  and  wrong  are 
still  the  same  in  the  planet  Herschel,  or  in  heaven,  as  on  earth.  Wherever 
beings  exist  that  can  know  God,  they  must  be  like  God.  We  thus  recognise 
in  the  angels  the  same  minds  and  sympathies  with  ourselves.  When  they 
sing  praises  as  they  announce  man's  redemption,  we  perceive  the  same 
minds,  with  the  same  sentiments  and  reflections  as  our  own ;  and  thus,  coo, 
mind  becomes  a  conductor  which  binds  us  to  the  whole  universe  of  rational 
beings.     Every  mental  and  moral  being  is  bom  after  one  image — God." 


Letter  to  Dr.  Donaldson,  when  requested  to  take  the  chr.ir  at  a  Burns  Festival,  at 
Newmilns : — * 

"Dec,  1839. 

"  Only  consider  the  matter  seriously  as  a  Christian  man,  and  say 
how  we  can,  with  the  shadow  of  consistency,  commemorate  Burns  after 
sitting  down  at  the  Lord's  Supper  to  commemorate  the  Saviour  ]  I  have 
every  admiration  for  Burns  as  a  poet ;  but  is  it  possible  to  separate  the  re- 
membrance of  his  genius  from  the  purposes  for  which  it  was  so  frequently 
used,  or  rather  prostituted1?  I  would,  I  daresay,  have  admired  and  wonder- 
ed at  the  magnificent  picture  which  Satan  exhibited  to  the  Saviour,  had  I 
beheld  it ;  but  that  would  not  be  a  reason  why  it  would  have  been  allowable 
to  have  commemorated  the  genius  and  power  of  the  mighty  being  who  had 
delighted  my  senses  with  his  picture,  without  any  reference  to  the  good  or 
evil,  intended  to  be  clone,  or  actually  accomplished,  by  the  splendid  work 
itself.  In  the  same  way,  however  much  I  admire  the  beautiful  poetry  of 
Burns,  I  never  can  forget  that,  in  a  great  many  instances  (and  these  afford- 
ing me  most  brilliant  examples  of  his  powers)  it  has  been  an  engine  for  vice; 
for  over  what  vice  does  he  not  throw  the  colouring  of  genius  \ 

"I  would  willingly  say  nothing  against  him,  unless  I  am  thus  publicly 
called  upon  to  commemoiate  him  publicly  and  to  say  something  for  him.  I 
cannot,  I  dare  not,  as  a  Christian  minister,  do  this  ;  neither  can  I  but  in  the 
strongest  manner  disapprove  of  any  dinner  to  his  memory.  What  I  have 
said  would,  I  well  know,  in  the  estimation  of  the  world,  be  termed  cant; 
but  with  the  vast  majority  of  thoughtful,  well-informed  Christians,  it  is  a 
self-evident  truth.  Excuse  this  very  hurried  note,  written  amidst  many 
labours.    You  may  make  what  use  you  please  of  it." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  August  iih.  —Went  with  Clerk  to  preach  at  Kilmorry,  a  station  on  the 
west  side  of  Ardnamurchan.  Had  a  fine  view  of  the  West  Hebrides  from 
the  summit  of  the  hill.     The  place  where  he  preaches  is  very  curious. 

"  Before  I  went  into  church  I  sat  down  on  a  knoll  to  gaze  on  the  scenery. 

*It  is  interesting  to  compare  his  convictions  at  this  period  as  to  the  proper  course  of 
duty  with  the  position  he  assumed  at  the  Burns'  Centenary  in  185'J.  (See  Chapter 
XIV.) 


EARLY  MINISTRY  IN  LOUDOUN.  109 

I  heard  the  sound  of  praise  rising  from  the  primitive  oil  i  lice,  and  the  lash  of 
the  waves  of  the  great  Atlantic  on  the  shore,  and  between  the  hymn  and 
the  ocean  and  the  majestic  scenery  around  there  was  perfect  oneness.  They 
all  praised  God.  But  the  dead  cannot  praise  Him ;  and  what  a  lonely 
churchyard  that  one  was  !  One  stumbled  upon  it.  I  never  saw  such  rude 
graves.  I  could  not  discover  one  name  or  one  inscription.  Among  heather 
and  weeds,  you  find  a  small  spot  raised  above  the  surface,  and  a  turf  of 
heather  over  it,  ill-cut  and  rudely  put  on.  There  is  a  fearful  negligence 
shown  here  of  the  remains  of  humanity.  The  churchyards  are  not  inclosed, 
and  the  graves  are  more  rude  than  any  I  have  seen  in  any  country.  There 
is  one  grave  in  that  remote  churchyard  in  which  a  woman  lies  whose  history 
will  only  be  known  at  the  great  day.  She  was  called  Lowland  Mary. 
About  forty  years  ago  she  came,  no  one  knew  whence,  to  this  remote  spot. 
She  was  then  a  young  and  pretty  woman.  She  became  a  servant  to  a 
respectable  gentleman  tenant,  and  supported  herself  for  thirty  years.  She 
was  pleasant  and  communicative  on  every  point  but  one,  and  that  was 
her  own  personal  history.  Whenever  she  was  asked  who  or  whence  she  was, 
she  got  into  a  high  state  of  excitement,  almost  mad.  The  most  she  ever 
said  was  that  her  friends  could  support  her,  and  insinuated  that  they  were 
well  oil*.  It  was  supposed  she  was  landed  from  some  ship.  She  lived  for 
years  a  solitary  woman,  and  died  a  pauper  this  year.  Clerk  was  sent  for  to 
see  her  and  could  not  go.     Her  history  was  never  told. 

"  I  received  the  following  information  about  Skye  from  a  thoroughly  re- 
liable source  : — 

"  To  disregard  the  ordinances  and  sacraments  of  the  Church  has  come  to 
be  looked  upon  by  the  islanders  as  characteristic  of  religious  life.  The 
superstitious  terror  with  which  fanaticism  has  invested  the  receiving  of 
Baptism  or  the  Lord's  Supper  has  led  men  to  show  their  reverence  by  the 
strange  method  of  avoiding  their  observance.  The  teaching  of  my  cousin, 
Mr.  Roderick  Macleod,  minister  of  Bracadale — commonly  called  Mr.  Rory — 
was  the  prime  cause  of  this  state  of  things.  Lie  held  extremely  strict  and 
exclusive  views  as  to  who  should  be  allowed  to  partake  of  the  sacraments 
of  his  Church.  He  believed,  and  acted  with  unbending  rigour,  on  the  prin- 
ciple that  a  minister  should  admit  no  one  to  these  Christian  privileges 
without  being  full  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  that  the  applicant  was  truly 
regenerate,  while  doing  so  he  refused  to  make  known  the  tests  by  which  he 
judged  of  men's  spiritual  state.  The  immense  majority  of  the  people,  not 
only  in  Bracadale,  but  throughout  the  island,  gradually  succumbed  to  his 
rule  ;  and  while  continuing  nominally  attached  to  the  Church  of  Scotland, 
yet  rarely  asked  for  her  sealing  ordinances,  and  either  grew  indifferent  to 
them,  or  regarded  them,  especially  the  Lord's  Supper,  with  such  dread  that 
no  consideration  would  induce  them  to  partake  of  them. 

"  Thus,  in  the  parish  of  Bracadale,  with  a  population  of  1,800,  the  com- 
municants have  been  reduced  to  eight  persons.  In  the  neighbouring  parish 
of  Diurinish  the  communion  was  never  administered  from  the  year  1829 
till  1840 ;  while  in  other  parishes  the  administration  was  irregular,  and 
the   number  of  communicants  incredibly  small.*      There  are  hundreds  of 

*  The  anomalous  state  of  things  described  as  existing  in  Skye  in  1842,  continues  to 
the  present  clay.  There  are  now  hundreds  of  persons  in  the  island— many  of  them 
fathers  and  mothers,  some  of  them  grandfathers  and  grandmothers— who  were  never 


110  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

people  unbaptized,  and  who,  even  in  mature  age,  evince  no  desire  to  receive 
the  sacred  rite. 

"  There  is  a  numerous  class  of  lay  preachers,  called  '  The  Men,'  who  do 
much  to  keep  up  the  flame  of  fanaticism  by  fierce  denunciations  of  those 
whom  they  reckon  unworthy  communicants,  and  of  the  pastors  who  dare  to 
admit  any  to  Christian  privileges  but  such  as  have  received  their  imprima- 
tur. These  '  Men '  are  of  various  characters  and  talents.  Some  of  them 
are  animated  by  a  zeal  that  is  genuine  if  not  enlightened,  leading  lives  of 
strict  piety,  and  gifted  with  a  wonderful  flow  of  natural  eloquence ;  while 
others  have  nothing  to  show  but  a  high-sounding  profession  of  faith,  some- 
times combined  with  great  worthlessness  of  character.  These  separatists 
wear  a  distinctive  dress,  carrying  a  long  blue  cloak,  and  putting  a  red  hand- 
kerchief round  their  heads  in  church.  They  judge  spiritual  character  more 
by  such  tokens  as  Sabbatarian  strictness  than  common  morality. 

"  Our  way  home  was  by  a  different  but  as  wild  a  path,  which  only  High- 
land horses  like  Diamond  and  Brenda  could  travel.  I  could  not  have  be- 
lieved it  without  my  having  seen  the  inimitable  way  in  which  they  picked 
their  steps  among  the  loose  stones,  and  walked  over  ledges  of  wet  rock.  We 
had  one  magnificent  prospect  on  our  way  back  from  the  summit  of  the  ridge. 
It  was  like  the  crater  of  an  immense  volcano — wild,  silent,  savage. 

"  7th,  Sabbath  of  the  Communion. — The  day  was  wet  and  stormy,  but  it 
was  a  pleasant  day  to  us  all.  The  English  congregation,  amounting  to 
about  twenty,  met  in  the  drawing-room  of  the  Manse.  There  I  preached 
to  them  and  administered  the  sacrament.  It  was  a  small  but  solemn  meet- 
ing, and  had  a  reality  about  it  which  I  liked.  It  seemed  more  like  primitive 
times  than  anything  of  the  kind  I  ever  saw.  And  query — had  no  ordained 
minister  been  in  the  parish,  and  had  the  parish  been  removed  beyond  St 
Kilda,  and  had  my  worthy  and  intelligent  friend,  Mr.  Clerk,  senr.,  set  apart 
the  bread  and  wine  by  prayer  for  sacramental  use,  and  had  that  company 
partaken  of  the  same  in  order  to  remember  Christ,  would  this  have  been  a 
4  mock  sacrament,'  even  though  no  ordained  minister  were  present  1 

"  llth. — Set  off  upon  an  expedition  to  Loch  Shiel. 

"  A  fresh  breeze  of  north  wind  was  blowing  up  Loch  Sunard.  "We  went 
rattling  along  under  a  snoring  breeze;  passed  Mingarry  Castle  and  Sthrone 
McLean,  connected  with  which  there  is  a  sad  story.  McLean  was  a  famous 
freebooter  when  Mclan  was  in  possession  of  Mingarry  Castle.  Mclan's  wife 
was  fair  and  vain.  McLean  was  handsome  and  cunning.  He,  the  enemy 
of  her  husband,  won  her  affections.  She  agreed  to  admit  him  to  the  castle 
upon  a  certain  night  to  murder  her  husband,  on  condition  that  he  would 
marry  her.     McLean  accordingly  entered  the  castle  at  night  and  murdered 

baptized,  while  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  is  looked  upon  by  many  with  inde- 
scribable dread.  This  gloomy  view  of  the  Holy  Communion  prevails  generally 
throughout  the  north  Highlands  ;  but,  as  far  as  I  know,  Skyeis  the  only  place  where 
baptism  is  so  generally  neglected.  As  an  instance  of  the  baneful  ell'ccts  of  these  feel- 
ings, even  after  the  erroneous  views  on  which  they  are  founded  have  been  given  up, 
a  clergyman  relates  that  when  he  once  asked  a  parishioner,  who  had  come  from  the 
north  Highlands,  to  become  a  communicant,  he  was  startled  by  the  reply,  "  Please 
say  no  more.  I  cannot  answer  you.  I  have  no  doubt  that  what  you  say  is  true  ;  but 
I  tell  you  that  if  you  had  asked'meto  commit  the  greatest  sin,  you  could  not  have 
frightened  me  half  so  much  as  by  inviting  me  to  sit  at  the  table  of  the  Lord."  Yet 
this  -na.i  was  not  only  intelligent  and  well-read,  but  of  a  tiuly  serious  mind  and  ex- 
cellent character. 


EARLY  MINISTRY  IN  LOUDOUN.  Ill 

the  old  chief.  Mclan,  however,  left  an  only  son,  and  McLean  insisted  upon 
the  woman  putting  to  death  the  son,  who  alone  seemed  to  stand  in  the  way 
of  his  subjecting  the  district  to  his  own  sway.  The  woman  agreed  to  this, 
and,  accompanied  by  McLean,  reached  the  wild  precipice  to  throw  her  child 
over  into  the  ocean  which  foamed  below.  The  mother  took  the  child  in  her 
arms.  She  twice  swung  it  in  the  air  to  cast  it  from  her;  but  not  doing  so, 
she  was  asked  by  McLean  why  she  delayed. 

"  'The  child,'  replied  the  unfortunate  woman,  'smiles  in  my  face  when- 
ever I  attempt  it.' 

"  'Turn  then  your  face  away  and  look  not  at  its  smiles,'  was  the  bandit's 
reply. 

The  woman  did  so,  and  the  child  was  thrown  over  the  rock.  She  had  no 
sooner  accomplished  the  deed  than  McLean  turned  upon  her  and  said — ■ 

"  '  Away,  horrid  woman  !  You  who  could  thus  murder  your  husband  and 
child  might  murder  me  !' 

"  We  soon  came  in  sight  of  Aharacle,  which  struck  me  very  much  as 
being  wild,  peculiar,  and  picturesque.  Aharacle  is  at  the  end  of  Loch  Shiel. 
It  is  a  flat,  dark  moss  surrounded  by  hills,  with  a  fine  view  of  Rum  in  the 
backgi'ound. 

"  It  affords  a  curious  instance  of  the  singular  crystallizing  process  which 
the  results  of  the  Reformation  have  undergone,  that  Papists  and  Protestants 
occupy  nearly  the  same  territory  as  they  did  then.  All  the  Papists  are  on 
the  north  side,  and  the  Protestants  upon  the  south  side  of  Loch  Shiel.  The 
parish  of  Ardnamurchan,  which  in  Papist  times  contained  many  parishes, 
extended  (until  lately)  as  far  north  as  Arisaig,  about  sixty  miles  as  the 
crow  flies,  with  I  daresay  five  hundred  miles  of  sea-coast. 

"  We  set  off  for  Glen  Finnan  at  four.  We  pulled  for  two  or  three 
miles  between  low  flat  banks  with  low  ranges  of  hills  near ;  but  there  was. 
a  grand  view  ahead,  clusters  of  mountains,  with  dark  gullies,  towards 
which  we  were  steering  in  high  hope.  After  sailing  some  miles  the  lake 
seemed  closed  by  a  green  point — intensely  green  when  contrasted  with  the 
dark,  heathy,  rocky  mountains  which  now  began  to  gather  round  us  and 
above  us  on  every  side.  We  soon  discovered  from  the  ruins  and  crosses 
which  caught  our  eye  that  this  was  Eilean  Finnan,  of  which  we  had  heard 
so  much.  It  is,  indeed,  a  touching  spot,  fit  place  for  meditative  thought. 
There  are  remains  still  on  the  Island  of  the  old  religious  establishments, 
but  they  are  ruins  only.  Gravestones  are  scattered  around,  chiefly,  if  not 
altogether,  belonging  to  the  Roman  Catholic  families  in  the  district.  One 
was  the  grave  of  a  bishop.  Another  had  a  skeleton  carved  out  on  the 
stone.  Another  was  a  plain  bit  of  wood  not  a  foot  high.  Rude  stone 
crosses  of  slate  and  of  modern  workmanship  Avere  placed  here  and  there!! 
Until  a  few  months  ago,  when  it  was  removed  for  safety  by  the  popish  pro- 
prietor, a  small  bellremained  from  time  immemorial  in  a  window  in  the 
ruins  beside  three  skulls,  one  of  them  belonging  to  a  notorious  character  in 
the  olden  time,  Ian  Muideartach.  These  skulls  have  been  buried.  One 
thing  struck  me  much  about  the  churchyard,  viz.,  that  the  rude  spokes 
which  had  carried  the  different  coffins  for  the  burial  were  deposited  beside 
their  respective  graves,  each  grave  having  a  rude  spoke  on  each  side  of  it. 
]  n  contemplating  that  green  island  with  its  ruins,  I  could  not  restrain  those 
feelings  which  prompted  me  to  oiler  up  in  my  heart  a  tribute  of  praise  to 


112  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

the  forgotten  religionists  who  had  here  lived  and  died.  They  may  ttava 
been  in  comparative  darkness,  they  may  have  erred  from  the  truth — but 
some  light  they  had,  and  here  they  made  it  shine  amidst  the  surrounding 
darkness  of  a  barbarous  age.  Some  truth  they  had,  and  they  gave  it  to 
others.  This  island,  with  its  buildings,  its  matin  and  vesper  bells,  its  pre- 
cessions, its  prayers,  its  ceremonies,  was  a  visible  religion;  it  was  a  monument 
and  pledge  of  something  beyond  man,  a  link  connecting  another  world  with 
this  ;  and  it  must  at  least  have  kept  before  the  minds  of  the  barbarian  clans 
who  prowled  in  the  neighbouring  mountains — gazing  upon  it  from  their 
summits,  or  listening  to  its  bell  calling  to  early  prayer — the  truth  that 
there  was  a  God,  and  reward  and  punishment  beyond  the  grave,  and  that 
the  eye  of  One  who  hated  sin  gazed  upon  them.  Popery  with  its  symbols 
was  a  pioneer  to  Protestantism.  It  was  in  some  respects  better  calculated 
to  attract  the  attention  of  men  in  a  rude  and  savage  state.  When  man  is  a 
child,  he  speaks  as  a  child  ;  but  he  should  now,  in  these  days  of  light  and 
intelligence,  put  away  childish  things. 

"  After  a  pull  of  twenty-four  miles  we  reached,  about  ten  o'clock,  tho 
head  of  the  loch,  and  saw  the  tall  monument  rising  like  a  ghost  in  tho 
darkness. 

"  The  first  thing  which  attracted  my  notice  in  the  morning  was  the  monu- 
ment erected  to  commemorate  Prince  Charlie  unfurlm?  his  standard  to 
regain  the  throne  of  his  ancestors.  This  romantic  enterprise  was  begun  on 
this  spot. 

"  And  where  now  are  all  those  fine  fellows  who,  full  of  enthusiasm  and  of 
hope,  came  streaming  down  these  valleys  and  covered  those  scattered  rocks  1 
Where  those  Highland  chiefs,  the  last  monuments  in  Europe  of  the  feudal 
times,  who  met  here  full  of  chivalry,  and  of  all  the  stirring  thoughts  con- 
nected with  such  a  romantic  and  hazardous  enterprise  1  And  the  young 
Chevalier  himself,  with  his  dreams  of  ambition  and  of  kingly  thrones  never 
to  be  fulfilled  1  How  strange  that  the  intrigues  of  a  vicious  Court  should 
have  disturbed  the  quiet  of  this  solitary  glen,  and  that  he,  who  was  then  all 
freshness  and  manliness,  should  have  changed  Loch  Shiel  and  its  warriors 
for  an  opera  and  Italian  dissipation  !  Charlie  after  all  was  never  my  dar- 
ling. He  had  all  the  kingly  bearing,  with  all  the  low  cunning  and  tyranni- 
cal spirit,  of  the  Stuarts. 

"We  left  the  head  of  Loch  Shiel  with  a  stiff  breeze  in  our  teeth.  Hav- 
ing seen  the  pictui'esque  outline  of  the  mountains — which  were  hanging 
over  us  so  that  the  eagle  perched  upon  their  summits  might  almost  look  into 
our  boat — both  in  the  evening  when  their  forms  mingled  with  the  dark 
shadow  of  the  lake,  and  their  summits  glowed  with  crimson  and  gold,  and 
also  at  night  when  their  giant  forms  stood  in  close  column,  their  stature 
reaching  the  sky  on  every  side  of  us,  we  were  glad  to  see  them  now  half 
l'obed  in  mist,  and  bedewed  with  many  a  snowy  rill.  After  a  stiff  pull  we 
reached  Aharacle  about  two,  and  soon  found  ourselves  again  on  the  banks 
of  Loch  Sunard." 

To  John  Mackintosh  : — 

"Loudodn  Manse,  October  Slh,  1842. 

"  You  are  in  a  glorious  country.  There  is,  I  think,  a  finer  combination 
anl  loveliness  in  the  scenery  of  the  Lakes  than  in  our  West  Highlands, 


EARL Y  MINISTIl Y  IN  LOUDOUN.  113 

with  the  exception  of  our  majestic  sea  views ;  our  castled  promontories, 
scattered  islands,  rapid  tides,  glimpses  of  boundless  horizons,  and  far- wind- 
ing sea  coasts  are,  I  think,  unrivalled  for  sublimity.  But  there  is  a'snugness, 
and  what  Carlyle  calls  a  '  Peace  reposing  in  the  bosom  of  strength,'  in  the 
lake  scenery,  which,  with  the  exception  of  some  parts  of  the  Tyrol,  one  sees 
nowhere  else. 

"  Have  you  seen  Wordsworth  1  He  is  a  perfect  Pan  of  the  woods,  but  a 
glorious  creature.  Such  men  elevate  my  views  of  the  Supreme  Mind  more 
than  all  the  scenery  of  earth." 

"  What  though  we  are  but  weary  pilgrims  here, 

Trav'lers  whose  place  of  rest  is  not  below ; 

Who  must  along  the  path  of  sorrow  go  ; 
For  those  we  cherish  and  regard  as  dear 
With  weak  hearts  trembling  betwixt  hope  and  fear  : 

Yet,  mourning  brother,  wherefore  should  we  know 
That  rayless  grief  which  broodeth  o'er  despair  1 

For  still  a  lot  most  full  of  bliss  is  ours  ! — 
Sweet  commune  with  the  good  which  are  and  were, 

Virtue  and  love,  high  truth,  exalted  powers, 
Converse  with  God  in  deep,  confiding  pray'r, 

An  ever-present  Lord  to  seek  and  save, 
The  word  which  quickens  more  than  vernal  showers, 

A  Father's  house  beyond  the  hollow  grave  V 


To  John  Mackintosh,  at  Cambridge  : 

"Loudoun,  December,  1842. 

"  I  feel  with  you  that  our  '  inner  men '  did  not  commune  sufficiently 
when  you  were  here.  There  was  more  a  rubbing  of  surfaces  than  a  melting 
together  of  two  souLs.  It  was  only  after  you  went  away  that  I  began  to 
grieve  over  undone  work,  and  unsaid  things,  and  half  said  things.  But 
when  I  have  time,  I  will  send  you  broken  images  of  my  thoughts,  that  you 
can  patch  together — half  crystallized  opinions  that  will  enable  you  to  guess 
the  form  which  they  are  tending  towards.  There  are  many  points  in 
theology  upon  which  I  somehow  think  you  are  destined,  like  myself,  to 
undergo  a  change,  and  about  these  I  am  very  anxious  to  communicate  with 
you  ;  such  as  the  universality  of  the  atonement,  the  nature  of  saving  faith, 
the  doctrine  of  assurance,  and  the  sacraments.  I  have  been  reading,  writ- 
ing, meditating,  preaching,  and  praying  upon  these  subjects,  and  I  feel  the 
necessity  of  having  such  clear  definite  ideas  upon  them  as  will  stand 
examination. 

"  I  am  busier  than  ever.  I  have  been  preaching  round  the  parish  upon 
Thursday  evenings.  At  all  those  meetings  I  collect  for  religious  purposes. 
Last  Thursday  I  collected  31s.  6d.  in  a  small  schoolroom  !  I  have  also — 
don't  laugh — commenced  a  course  of  lectures  on  geology  for  the  Newmilns 
weavers  !     It  will  extend  to  about  ten  lectures. 

"  I  have  never  engaged  in  any  duty,  for  I  call  it  duty,  which  has  given 
me  such  pleasure.  You  know  that  there  has  always  been  a  set  of  shrewd, 
well-read,  philosophical  readers  here — vain,  but  marvellously  well  informed, 

8 


114  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

and  half  infidel — who  were  very  civil  when  I  went  to  see  them,  but  would 
never  coine  to  church.  They  were  generally  Chartists,  and  talked  very  big 
about  the  'priests'  not  wishing  the  people  to  become  well  informed,  and  so 
on.  Well,  I  hardly  knew  how  to  get  to  windward  of  these  men,  but  I  knew 
they  had  formed  themselves  into  a  'Philosophical  Institution'  and  sometimea 
got  men  to  lecture  to  them  from  Kilmarnock.  I  hinted  to  one  of  them  that 
I  would  willingly  lecture.  They  sent  a  deputation  to  request  me  to  do  so. 
I  agreed.  Subject,  geology.  I  have  for  the  last  ten  years  been  fond  of  the 
science,  and  luckily  I  had  just  finished  a  two  months'  course  of  reading  on 
it,  and  had  a  large  collection  of  all  the  best  books.  Well,  not  to  make  my 
story  long,  up  I  went  to  the  village  on  the  appointed  night,  expecting  to 
find  the  members  of  the  Institution  only  assembled,  but  I  found  the  school- 
house  crammed  with  one  hundred  and  fifty  people  admitted  by  penny  tickets, 
and  about  fifty  people  outside  !  You  can  have  no  idea,  unless  you  knew  the 
excitability  of  our  people,  of  the  interest  these  lectures  have  created:  they 
speak  of  nothing  else ;  old  fellows  stop  and  touch  their  hats  and  thank  me. 
When  I  finished  my  second,  men  who  used  to  avoid  me,  gave  me  three 
rounds  of  cheers !  and  last  Sabbath  night  I  saw  some  of  the  -philosophers  in 
church  for  the  first  time.  They  have  got  the  dissenting  church  for  me  to 
lecture  in.  I  have  got  Buckland's  map  copied  on  a  large  scale,  and  we  begin 
a  spring  course,  to  not  less,  I  am  persuaded,  than  six  or  seven  hundred 
people  !  I  think  this  is  a  practical  lesson.  Let  a  minister  use  every  means 
to  come  in  contact  with  every  class,  to  win  them  first  on  common  ground, 
and  from  thence  endeavour  to  bring  them  to  holy  ground.  Only  fancy  a 
fossil  fern  from  the  coal,  the  solitary  specimen  in  the  mineralogical  cabinet 
of  the  institution,  going  the  round  of  Newmilns  as  an  unheard-of  curiosity ! 
Poor  souls  !  if  you  knew  how  I  do  love  the  working  classes. 

"  Dec.  30th. — The  former  part  of  this  letter  was  written  a  week  ago.  It 
proves  to  you  what  a  slow  coach  I  am.  I  wanted  to  have  written  to  you 
about  our  unfortunate  Church,  but  the  subject  is  too  important  to  be  dealt 
with  in  a  letter.  I  have  seen  nothing  published  \ipon  this  subject  which  so 
completely  expresses  my  own  views  as  Morren  of  Greenock's  letters  to  his 
congregation.  If  I  can  get  them  in  a  complete  form  I  will  send  them  to 
you.  My  principles  may  be  shortly  stated.  The  Church,  as  an  independent 
power  in  spiritual  things,  agrees  in  forming  an  alliance  with  the  State  to 
act  in  reference  (for  example)  to  the  induction  of  presentees  into  parishes 
in  one  particular  way,  out  of  fifty  other  ways  she  might  have  chosen,  all 
being  agreeable  to  the  Word  of  God.  This  particular  way  is  embodied  in 
an  Act  of  Parliament — a  civil  act — and  consequently  implies  an  obligation 
on  the  part  of  the  two  contracting  parties,  the  Church  and  State,  to  obey 
its  enactments.  Of  this  civil  act  the  civil  courts  are  alone  the  constitutional 
interpreters,  and  we  must  either  obey  their  interpretation  or  walk  ou*.  I 
wish  the  law  was  modified,  but  I  can  live  under  it.  I  believe  there  must 
be  a  large  secession.     No  Government  can  yield  to  their  demands. 

"  Write  to  me  soon.  This  is  a  wild  night.  It  is  late.  My  communion 
is  on  the  second  Sabbath  of  January.      Pray  for  me." 

From  his  Journal: — 


i< 


I  heard,  the  end  of  last  week,   that  T B and  D T- 


were  ill  and  dying.     Neither  of  thei%sent  for  me,  but  T  determined,  thank 


EARLY  MINISTRY  IN  LOUDOUN.  115 

Gocl,  to  see  tlicin.  1  felt  a  particularly  strong  desire  to  do  so.  Here  let 
me  record  for  ray  guidance  a  rule, — Always  when  a  fitting  opportunity 
arrives  be  sowing  the  seed.  Read  the  Gospel  in  private,  in  season  and  out 
of  season,  and  God  may  bless  it  when  least  expected  by  you.  I  went  to  see 
13.  first,  and  found  him  dying.  Most  earnestly  did  I  urge  upon  him  a  free 
salvation,  and  the  truth  that  God  has  good-will  to  man.  I  then  went  to 
T's.  He  had  been  a  cold,  heartless  man,  a  Chartist,  and  his  son  was  the 
only  man  in  Newmilns  (except  his  brother)  who  'cut'  me,  and  who  was 
very  uncivil  to  me  both  in  his  father's  presence  and  in  his  own  house.  In- 
deed, I  had  to  leave  him  on  the  ground  of  incivility.  To  this  man's  house 
I  felt  I  must  go.  But  I  went  in  prayer,  leaving  it  to  God,  and  conscious 
that  I  went  from  a  sense  of  duty.  But  oh  how  chastened  was  D. !  lamenting 
neglected  opportunities,  and  serious  and  thoughtful  about  salvation.  His 
son  entered  at  the  end  of  my  visit.  D.  shook  hands  with  me,  and  his  son, 
mild  and  civil,  thanked  me  cordially  for  my  visit.  Always  do  duty  trusting 
to  God,  who  will  make  light  arise  out  of  darkness. 

"  Saturday  Evening,  29th. — I  was  last  week  at  Kilninver  burying  clear 
old  Dr.  Campbell,*  who  died  upon  the  17th.  My  father  is  the  best  travel- 
ling companion  I  know,  so  full  of  anecdote  and  traditionary  tales." 

*Father  of  the  late  John  Macleoi  Campbell,  D.D. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE    DISRUPTION    CONTROVERSY. 

I^HE  Disruption  of  1843  forms  an  interesting  and  curious  page  in 
modern  ecclesiastical  history.  The  enthusiasm  and  stern  devo- 
tion to  duty  which  led  hundreds  of  good  men  to  leave  the  Church  of 
their  fathers,  and.  peril  their  all  for  conscience  sake,  formed  a  startling 
spectacle  in.  the  midst  of  the  materialism  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
It  was  no  wonder  that  the  appeal  made  to  the  generous  sympathies  of 
the  nation — when  the  people  saw  so  many  of  their  most  revered 
ministers'  sacrificing  manse  and  glebe  and  stipend  for  what  they 
believed  to  be  their  duty — received  a  generous  response.  And  if  the 
commencement  of  the  Free  Church  was  a  remarkable  illustration 
of  the  undying  "perfervidum  ingenium  Scotorum" — no  less  has  her 
subsequent  history  been  characterized  by  rare  wisdom  and  energy. 
Every  Christian  man  must  ungrudgingly  recognise  the  great  good 
which  she  has  accomplished.  The  benefits  which  have  attended  her 
devoted  labours  are  too  palpable  to  require  enumeration.  Her  rapid 
multiplication  of  the  means  of  grace  at  home  and  abroad,  the  wisdom 
of  her  organization,  the  boldness  of  her  enterprise,  the  splendid 
liberality  of  her  members,  and  the  worth  and  ability  of  many  of 
her  ministers,  have  conferred  untold  blessings,  direct  and  indirect,  on 
the  cause  of  religion.  She  has  not  onlv  been  a  distinguished  mis- 
sionary  agent,  but  she  has  powerfully  stimulated  the  zeal  of  other* 
Churches. 

Yet  it  would  be  untruthful  not  to  recognize  the  evils  which,  we 
believe,  accompanied  the  Disruption.  Ecclesiastical  strife,  which  in- 
troduced discord  into  every  parish  and  into  thousands  of  families,  not 
only  greatly  destroyed  the  frank  cordiality  of  social  life  in  Scotland, 
but  converted  every  community  into  a  set  of  mutually  suspicious 
factions,  and  thus  did  grievous  damage  to  the  Christian  spirit  of  the 
country.  For  the  zeal  with  which  the  claims  of  Church  and  party 
were  advanced  was  too  often  characterized  by  a  bitterness  of  temper, 
a  violence  of  language,  and  a  virulence  of  sectarian  animosity,  which 
promoted  anything  but  Christian  life  as  exemplified  by  humility, 
justice,  and  charity.  When  there  was  such  denunciation  of  ecclesias- 
tical opponents  that  their  loyalty  to  the  will  of  Christ  was  questioned  ; 
and  when  there  was  added  to  such  presumption  of  judgment,  the 


THE  DISRUPTION  CONTROVERSY.  117 

frequent  refusal,  in  word  and  practice,  to  recognise  the  Establishment 
as  a  true  branch  of  Christ's  Church,  an  acerbity  was  imparted  to  the 
controversy  which  was  far  from  being  edifying  to  the  public.  This 
rivalry  of  the  sects  also  tended  to  weaken  the  authority  and  impair 
the  discipline  of  all  Churches,  and  diminish  the  feelings  of  reverence 
with  which  the  sacred  office  of  the  ministry  used  to  be  regarded. 
Those,  moreover,  who  value  a  national  testimony  to  religion  not  as  a 
mere  theory,  but  as  exemplified  in  practical  legislation,  must  regret 
the  perilous  issues  which  have  ensued  from  the  jealousy  and  division 
of  the  Churches  in  Scotland.  Although  there  is,  perhaps,  no  free 
country  really  so  united  in  its  creed,  yet  there  are  few  where  it  has 
been  more  difficult  to  settle  even  such  matters  as  education  without 
risking  every  guarantee  for  religion. 

It  is  certainly  from  no  desire  to  re-open  controversies,  which,  thank 
God,  have  in  a  great  measure  lost  their  bitterness,  that  these  things 
are  referred  to  here.  Most  of  those  who  took  a  leading  part  in  the 
warfare  have  entered  into  their  rest,  and  "  seeing  eye  to  eye  "  have 
learned  to  love  one  another  in  the  fellowship  of  the  Church  glorified. 
It  is  therefore  peculiarly  painful  to  recall  a  time  of  misunderstanding 
and  bitterness.  But  in  describing  the  part  taken  by  Norman  Macleod 
during  years  of  keen  and  important  debate,  historical  truthfulness,  as 
well  as  the  duty  imposed  on  his  biographer  of  throwing  as  much  light 
as  possible  on  the  motives  which  then  actuated  him,  and  which  led  to 
the  strong  expressions  of  opinion  sometimes  to  be  found  in  his  jour- 
nals and  letters,  make  it  necessary  to  re-create,  to  a  certain  extent, 
the  atmosphere  which  then  surrounded  him.  If  there  are  hard  words 
sometimes  uttered. by  him,  it  can  be  asserted,  with  all  truth,  that  they 
owe  their  character  chiefly  to  his  intense  desire  for  tolerance  and  love 
between  Christian  men  and  Christian  Churches,  and  from  detestation 
of  that  party-spirit  which  is  ever  so  destructive  of  right  Christian 
feeling. 

For  the  sake  of  clearness,  therefore,  as  well  as  of  illustrating  the 
position  taken  by  Norman  Macleod  during  this  discussion,  we  shall 
state,  as  briefly  and  impartially  as  possible,  the  points  at  issue  in  a 
controversy  which  agitated  Scotland  to  its  centre,  drove  into  hostile 
camps  those  who  had  been  previously  united  by  the  most  sacred  ties. 
and  is  still  affecting  the  public  and  private  life  of  the  kingdom. 

The  tide  of  fresh  intellectual  life  which  passed  over  Europe  in  the 
early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century,  causing  in  France  the  Revolu- 
tion of  1830,  and  in  Britain  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832,  manifested  its 
effects  in  almost  every  sphere  in  which  the  voice  of  the  populace 
could  be  heard.  It  told  with  power  upon  all  religions  and  all 
Churches,  and  as  might  have  been  expected,  had  a  marked  influence 
on  the  Church  of  Scotland,  whose  government  from  the  first  had  been 
-democratic.  With  the  quickening  of  political  and  intellectual  life, 
there  was  also  a  revival,  in  the  best  sense,  of  spiritual  religion.  The 
2arlier  movements   of  this  new  life  were  towards  objects  ot  mission- 


118  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

ary  enterprise,  in  which  both  parties  in  the  Church  vied  with  each 
other.  The  India  Mission,  the  Education  and  Colonial  Schemes,  in- 
augurated by  the  leaders  of  the  "  Moderates,"  were  heartily  supported 
by  the  "  Evangelicals,"  who,  at  the  same  time,  led  by  Dr.  Chalmers, 
were  urging  on  Church  extension  with  splendid  tokens  of  success. 
The  spirit  of  party  was  at  this  time  chiefly  manifested  in  the  defence 
of  Church  Establishments  against  the  Voluntaries  and  the  war,  car- 
ried on  mainly  by  the  future  Non-Intrusionists,  was  characterized  by 
great  argumentative  ability,  and  by  no  little  intolerance  of  spirit  to- 
Avards  dissent.  This  campaign  against  the  Voluntaries  was  closely 
connected  with  the  events  which  followed  within  the  Church,  and 
which  led  to  its  dismemberment.  For  the  desire  to  popularise  the 
Establishment  as  much  as  possible,  and  to  show  that  her  constitution 
ensured  the  same  freedom  and  independence  of  government  which 
belonged  to  dissenting  communities,  gradually  led  to  a  series  of  legis- 
lative enactments,  on  the  part  of  the  General  Assembly,  which  raised 
the  fatal  questiones  vcxatce  that  produced  the  secession. 

Divested  of  the  entanglements  into  which  they  fell,  and  viewed 
apart  from  the  strict  chronological  order  of  events,  the  questions 
which  ultimately  divided  the  Church  may  be  thus  stated  : — 

I.  They  had  reference  to  the  constitutional  power  of  the  Church. 

II.  To  practical  legislation. 

I.  The  two  parties  into  which  the  Church  was  divided  had  diver- 
gent beliefs  as  to  the  nature  of  the  spiritual  independence  which  of 
right  belonged  to  the  Church. 

The  Non-Intrusion  party  maintained  that  in  all  questions,  the  sub- 
ject-matter of  which  involved  what  was  spiritual,  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  Church  courts  was  exclusive,  and  that  their  sentences  were  un- 
challengeable, even  when  it  was  'Asserted  by  a  party  complaining,  that 
the  laws  and  constitution  of  the  Church  n'self  were  being  violated. 
The  Church  had  also,  according  to  them,  the  ight  to  declare  what  was 
spiritual,  and  was  in  such  cases  quite  free,  not  only  to  decide  on  the 
merits,  but  to  change  the  forms  of  law  regulating  her  procedure. 
They  denied,  moreover,  that  the  civil  courts  had  power  to  pronounce 
any  decision  which  could  touch  the  spiritual  sentence,  even  in  cases 
where  a  civil  right  was  so  involved  that  it  could  not  easily  be  separated 
from  the  spiritual.  The  Ecclesiastical  Courts  were  to  stand  to  the 
Civil  very  much  as  the  Court  of  Arches  stands  to  Chancery. 

They  claimed,  in  short,  for  the  Church  constitutional  powers  co- 
ordinate not  with  the  Civil  Courts  only,  but  with  the  State — a  right 
not  only  to  make  new  laws,  but  to  be  the  interpreter  of  her  own  laws 
in  every  case  where  the  question  involved  that  which  was  spiritual, 
although  civil  rights  were  affected  by  it. 

In  all  such  things  she  was  to  be  responsible  to  Jesus  Christ  alone 
as  the  Head  of  the  Church. 

The  position  of  the  other  party  was  equally  clear.  They  believed 
as  firmly  as  thfur  brethren  in  the  duty  of  accepting  no  law  which  in- 


THE  DISR I T  TIO  N   CONTRO I  r£BS  Y.  119 

ferred  disloyalty  to  the  revealed  will  of  the  Great  Head.     They  also 
claimed  for  the   Church   undisputed   liberty  in  the   exercise  of  her 
judicial  functions.     But  they  further  asserted  that  when  the  Church, 
after  due  deliberation,  had  settled  her  own  constitution,  and  had  come 
to  terms  with  the  State  as  to  the   conditions  on  which  she  should 
accept  establishment,  and  had  satisfied  herself  that  there  was  nothing 
in  the  statutes  so  establishing  her  which  inferred  disloyalty  to  con- 
science and  the  Word  of  God,  she  had  then  become  bound  by  contract, 
and  had  no  right  proprio  motu  to  legislate  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
nullify  her  own  constitution  and  the  statutes  to  which  she  had  agreed. 
These  laws  had  become  her  laws,  and  held  her  in  a  certain  fixed  re- 
lationship, not  only  with  the  State,  but  with  her  own  members  and 
every  individual  who  had  a  locus  standi   before  her  courts,  whether 
minister,  communicant,  patron,  or  heritor.     All  these,  the  constitutional 
party  maintained,  had  a  right  to  see  that  they  had  the  privileges  of 
law,  that  they  were  tried  by  properly  constituted  courts,  and  with  the 
observance  of  such  forms  of  process  as  statute  law  and  the  practice  of 
the  Church  herself  prescribed.     They  also  maintained  that  any  one 
wdio  deemed  himself  aggrieved  by  an  infringement  of  law,  was  entitled  to 
the  protection  of  the  Civil  Courts.     When  disputes  arose  not  respect- 
ing what  the  law  ought  to  be,  but  as  to  what  was  the  existing  law  by 
which  the  Church  Courts  and  the  members  of  the  Church  were  equally 
bound,  they  held,  that  this   being   a  purely  legal  question,  fell  of 
necessity  to  be  determined  by  a  court  of  law.     It  was  but  the  law  of 
contract  applied  to  matters  ecclesiastical,  and  the  tribunal  which  could 
alone  definitely  settle  what  the  terms  of  contract  were,  must,  in  their 
view,  be  the  courts  of  the  country  charged  with  the  authoritative  in- 
terpretation of  law.     While  they  yielded  nothing  to  their  opponents 
in  claiming  spiritual  independence  for  the  Church,  they  were  of  opinion 
that  that  independence,  and  the  allegiarfce  due  to  the  great  Head,  were 
best  secured  by  maintaining  intact  the  constitution  which  the  Church 
had  adopted  and  which  the  State  had,  at  the  suit  of  the  Church,  con- 
firmed.    They  held  that  no  change  could  be  made  without  the  consent 
of  all  parties  interested,  and  that  to  concede  to  any  majority,  which 
happened  to  obtain  ascendancy  in  the  General  Assembly,  power  to 
alter  the  constitution  of  the  Church,  either  as  to  doctrine  or  disci- 
pline, was  not  legitimate  independence,  but  licence  which,  if  carried 
to  its  logical  consequences,  might  ultimately  destroy  the  Church. 

Such  were  the  different  ideas  of  jurisdiction  and  of  spiritual  inde- 
pendence which  were  held  by  the  two  parties.  They  soon  found  an 
ample  field  for  discussion  in  the  questions  which  arose  during  the 
"Ten  Years'  Conflict." 

II.  The  Assembly  of  1834  was  the  first  in  which  the  "  High  party" 
gained  a  majority  over  the  "Moderates,"  and  their  victory  was  signal- 
ised by  the  passing  of  two  Acts,  which  laid  the  train  for  all  the  dis- 
astrous consequences  that  ensued. 
(a)  The  first  was  the  Veto  A  :t 


120  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

Although  lay  patronage  had  always  been  distasteful  to  a  section  of 
the  clergy,  and  unpopular  with  the  vast  majority  of  the  people,  yet, 
with  the  exception  of  a  comparatively  short  period,  it  had  been  in 
some  form  or  other  enforced  by  statute,  and  recognised  in  the  practice 
of  the  Church  ever  since  her  establishment.  The  Act  of  Queen  Anne, 
at  all  events,  had  been  in  force  for  more  than  one  hundred  and  twenty 
years.  The  forms  to  be  observed  in  the  settlement  of  ministers  were 
also  of  express  enactment.  It  was  the  duty  of  Presbyteries  to  take 
all  presentees  on  trial,  and,  if  found  qualified,  to  induct  them,  unless 
such  objections  wTere  tendered  by  the  parishioners  as  should  approve 
themselves  valid  to  the  Court.  The  liberty  of  judgment  was  to  lie 
with  the  Church  courts  alone,  without  right  of  appeal. 

But  in  1834  the  party  which  had  become  dominant  in  the  General 
Assembly,  professing  to  give  greater  effect  to  the  will  of  the  people, 
and  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of  such  scandals  in  the  working  of  the 
law  of  patronage  as  had  occurred  during  the  cold  period  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  passed  an  Act  which  practically  got  quit  of  patron- 
age by  a  side-wind.  This  was  the  Veto  Act,  by  which  power  was 
given  to  a  majority  of  the  male  communicants,  being  heads  of  families, 
to  veto  the  settlement  of  a  particular  minister  without  assigning  any 
reason,  Presbyteries  being  at  the  same  time  enjoined  to  accept  this 
Veto  as  an  absolute  bar  to  all  further  proceedings.  In  this  manner 
they  hoped  to  secure  non-intrusion,  and  nullify  the  evil  effects  of 
patronage.  The  power  of  judgment  was  thus  transferred  from  the 
Church  courts  to  the  male  communicants,  being  heads  of  families ; 
and  the  quality  of  the  judgment  was  altered  from  one  supported  by 
reasons,  to  that  of  a  Veto  pronounced  without  any  grounds  being 
assigned.  The  majority  in  the  Assembly  which  passed  this  law 
certainly  believed  they  had  constitutional  power  so  to  legislate.  But 
not.  only  did  a  large  and  influential  minority — no  less  than  one 
hundred  and  thirty-nine  against  a  majority  of  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
four — protest  against  it  as  ultra  vires,  but  Chalmers  himself  had  dcmbts 
of  its  legality,  while  he  supported  its  adoption.  After  the  passing  of 
the  Act,  the  constitutional  party  offered  no  factious  opposition ;  they 
allowed  it  a  fair  trial,  and  in  several  instances  it  was  acted  upon  with- 
out question.  But  at  last,  in  the  Auchterarder  case,  its  competency 
was  challenged  by  a  patron  and  presentee,  and  the  question  was 
brought  to  an  issue  by  a  declaratory  action  in  the  Civil  Court.  The 
patron  asserted  that  his  civil  right,  secured  by  statute,  had  been  in- 
fringed, and  the  presentee  that  his  privilege  as  a  licentiate  of  the 
Church  to  be  taken  on  trial  by  the  Presbytery  had  been  denied.  On 
the  question  of  law  thus  submitted  to  them,  the  Civil  Courts — first  the 
Court  of  Session  and  then  the  House  of  Lords — decided  that  the  Veto 
Act  was  ultra  vires.  The  ecclesiastical  majority  then  professed  them- 
selves willing  to  give  up  the  temporalities,  but  refused  to  take  the 
presentee  on  trial,  or  to  proceed  in  any  way  with  his  settlement.  In 
all  this,  however,  the  State  never  interfered,  and  the  Courts  of  Law 


Til E  DISRUPTION  CONTROVTUSY.  121 

pronounced  their  decision  only  because  it  was  asked  regarding  the 
proper  interpretation  of  a  statute.  No  one  sought  to  letter  the  judg- 
ment of  the  Ecclesiastical  Courts  as  to  the  fitness  or  unfitness  of  the 
presentee  for  the  benefice,  or  as  to  the  validity  of  the  objections  which 
the  people  might  bring  against  him.  All  that  was  insisted  on  was 
that  the  Presbytery — and  the  Presbytery  alone — was  bound  to  try  the 
suitability  of  the  presentee  and  that  it  was  illegal  to  accept  the  simple 
Veto  of  "heads  of  families  being  communicants"  as  a  sufficient  bar  to 
induction.*  The  dominant  part  in  the  Assembly,  however,  would  not 
listen  to  this  reasoning.  They  claimed  spiritual  independence,  and 
absolutely  refused  obedience  to  the  Civil  Court. 

The  next  step  irretrievably  involved  both  parties.  This  was  taken 
in  the  well-known  Marnoch  case:  The  Presbytery  of  Strathbogie., 
acting  On  the  injunctions  of  the  General  Assembly,  but  contrary  to 
the  judgment  of  a  majority  of  their  own  number,  and  notwithstand- 
ing the  decision  of  the  House  of  Lords  in  the  Auchterarder  case, 
refused  to  take  a  presentee  on  trial.  Upon  this  the  presentee  com- 
plained to  the  Civil  Court.  Before  this  tribunal  the  majority  of  the 
Presbytery  appeared,  and  stated  they  were  satisfied  that  by  the  laws 
of  the  Church  they  were  bound  to  take  the  presentee  on  trial,  but  that 
they  were  restrained  by  an  order  of  the  superior  Ecclesiastical  Court. 
The  Court  of  Session,  however,  told  them  that  such  an  order  was  ultra 
vires,  and  ordered  them  to  proceed.  Their  own  convictions  as  to  their 
duty  being  thus  confirmed  by  a  judicial  sentence,  they — unfortunately 
without  waiting  to  throw  the  responsibility  on  the  Assembly — took 
the  presentee  on  trial,  and  having  found  him  duly  qualified,  inducted 
him.  For  this  act  of  disobedience  to  their  injunctions,  the  General 
Assembly  deposed  the  majority  of  the  Presbytery.  The  constitutional 
party,  on  the  other  hand,  who  were  in  a  minority  in  the  Assembly, 
accepting  the  decision  of  the  Civil  Court  as  a  confirmation  of  what 
they  had  themselves  all  along  maintained  to  be  the  law  of  the  Church, 
felt  themselves  bound  to  treat  the  ministers,  who  had  been  deposed 
for  obeying  that  law,  as  if  no  ecclesiastical  censure  had  been  passed. 
They  appealed,  in  short,  from  the  decision  of  the  dominant  majority 
to  the  obligations  which  the  statutes  establishing  the  Church  imposed. 
Matters  thus  came  to  a  dead-lock,  and  both  sides  found  themselves  in 
a  position  from  which  it  was  almost  impossible  to  retreat. 

(b)  Another  proceeding  of  the  same  General  Assembly  of  1834 
led  even  more  decidedly  to  a  similar  conflict — for  by  the  law  then 
passed  affecting  Chapels  of   Ease,  a  formal  right  had  been  given  to 

*  Even  the  Act,  1690,  c.  23,  which  is  appealed  to  in  the  Free  Church  Claim  of  Rights 
as  if  it  were  the  very  charter  of  the  liberties  of  the  Church,  while  it  vests  patronage  in 
the  heritors  and  eldeis — giving  them  the  right  to  propose  a  minister  to  a  congregation 
for  their  approval — expressly  requires  disapproves  "  to  give  in  their  reasons  to  the  effect 
the  affair  may  be  cognosced  upon  by  the  Presbytery  of  the  Bounds,  at  whose  judgment 
and  by  whose  determination  the  calling  and  entry  of  the  particular  minister  is  to  be 
ordered  and  concluded."  The  Veto  Act,  however,  conferred  on  the  people  the  right  to 
reject  a  presentee  without  any  trial  and  without  assigning  any  reasons. 


122  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

Ministers  of  quoad  sacra  or  non-parochial  churches,  to  sit  in  Presby- 
teries, Synods  and  Assemblies.  The  theory  of  Presbyterian  parity, 
and  some  precedents  which  had  not  at  the  time  been  challenged,  lent 
countenance  to  the  Act.  But  its  legality  was  disputed  by  the  parish- 
ioners of  Stewarton,  in  1839,  and  after  a  trial,  the  Court  of  Session 
found  it  unconstitutional  and  incompetent.  As  Presbyteries  are 
Courts  which  possess  jurisdiction  not  only  in  matters  spiritual,  but  in 
civil  matters, — such  as  the  building  and  repair  of  manses,  churches, 
and  the  examination  of  schoolmasters — it  was  evident  that  any  parish- 
ioner or  heritor  or  schoolmaster,  as  well  as  minister,  was  entitled  to  ob- 
ject to  any  one  sitting  as  a  member  of  the  Court  who  had  no  legal 
right  to  do  so.  The  Non-Intrusion  party,  however,  once  more  claimed 
supremacy  for  the  General  Assembly.  The  Church,  and  the  Church 
only,  they  said,  had  the  right  to  determine  who  should  sit  in  her 
Courts;  but  the  Court  of  Session  held  that  it  was  a  violation  of  the 
law  of  the  land  as  well  as  of  the  constitution  of  the  Church  itself,  to 
allow  any  minister  to  act  as  judge  in  a  Presbytery  who  was  not  the 
minister  of  a  parish,  and  issued  interdict  accordingly. 

Confusion  thus  became  worse  confounded.  With  the  view  of  recon- 
ciling parties,  measures  were  proposed  in  Parliament  for  the  settlement 
of  ministers,  in  which  the  utmost  latitude  was  given  to  the  liberty  of 
the  people  to  object.  One  point  alone  was  stipulated, — the  Church 
Courts  must  decide  whether  the  objections  to  the  presentee  were  good 
or  bad,  and  their  decision  was  to  be  final.  But  even  this  was  not  satis- 
factory. Nothing  short  of  such  a  liberum  arbitrium  must  be  given  to 
the  people  as  has  been  commemorated  in  the  song — - 

"  '  I  do  not  like  thee,  Dr.  Fell, 
The  reason  why,  I  cannot  tell.' 

The  extreme  party  had  taken  their  position,  and  it  was  not  easy  to 
recede  from  it.  The  "Ten  Years'  Conflict"  waxed  louder  and  fiercer  as 
it  approached  its  lamentable  close.  A  Convocation  of  the  Free  Church 
party  was  held  to  mature  measures  for  the  final  separation.  Deputa- 
tions were  appointed  to  visit  every  parish  whose  minister  was  of  the 
opposite  party,  and  to  stir  up  the  people  so  as  to  prepare  them  for 
secession.  The  language  used  by  these  deputies  was  not  unfrequently 
of  the  wildest  and  most  reprehensible  description.  The  choice  they 
put  before  the  country  was  "Christ  or  Caesar."  Motives  of  the  most  mer- 
cenary description  were  too  often  attributed  to  the  ministers  who  dared 
to  abide  by  the  Establishment.  There  was  kindled,  especially  in  the 
North  Highlands,  a  fanaticism  the  intensity  of  which  would  now 
appear  incredible.    It  was,  in  short,  a  period  of  untold  excitement. 

Norman  Macleod  was  for  a  long  time  unwilling  to  be  dragged 
into  the  controversy,  and  pursued  his  parochial  duties  with  increasing 
earnestness,  without  entering  into  the  strife  which  was  raging  around 
him.  He  was  unfitted  alike  by  temperament  and  by  conviction  foi 
being  a  "party  man,"  and  until  nearly  tl*e-end  of  the  conflict   his 


THE  DISRUPT  I  OX  CONTROVERSY.  123 

sympathies  were  not  greatly  roused  by  the  action  of  either  side.  He 
felt  that  the  High  Churchmen  or  "  Evangelicals"  were,  on  the  one 
hand,  exaggerating  the  importance  of  their  case,  for  he  had  seen  noble 
types  of  Christianity  in  England  a  id  Germany  under  forms  and  con- 
ditions widely  different  from  what  were  pronounced  in  Scotland  essen- 
tial to  the  existence  of  the  Church.  His  common  sense  condemned 
the  recklessness  with  which  the  very  existence  of  the  National  Church 
was  imperilled  for  the  sake  of  an  extreme  and,  at  the  best,  a  dubious 
question  of  ecclesiastical  polity.  In  whatever  way  the  dispute  might 
be  settled,  his  practical  mind  saw  that  nothing  was  involved  which 
could  hinder  him  from  preaching  the  Gospel  freely,  or  interfere  either 
with  his  loyalty  to  the  Word  of  God,  or  with  the  utmost  liberty  in  pro- 
moting the  advancement  of  Christ's  kingdom.  His  whole  nature  was 
opposed  to  what  savoured  of  ultramontane  pretensions,  however  dis- 
guised, and  knowing  how  easily  "  presbyter"  might  become  "  priest 
writ  large,"  he  was  too  much  afraid  of  the  tyranny  of  Church  Courts 
and  ecclesiastical  majorities,  not  to  value  the  checks  imposed  by  consti- 
tutional law.  He  was,  moreover,  repelled  by  the  violence  of  temper, 
the  unfairness  of  judgment,  and  the  spiritual  pride,  displayed  by  so 
many  of  the  "  Evangelicals."  He  had  known  and  loved  too  many  ex- 
cellent Christian  men  among  the  so-called  "  Moderates,"  not  to  be 
shocked  by  the  indiscriminate  abuse  which  was  heaped  upon  them. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  had  such  reverent  love  for  Chalmers,  the 
leader  of  the  "  Evangelicals,"  and  for  many  of  the  eminent  men  as- 
sociated with  him,  that  he  was  for  a  time  led  to  sympathize  with  their 
side,  without  adopting  the  policy  they  advocated.  Although  he  after- 
wards perceived  the  inconsistency  of  the  utterances  of  Chalmers  in  this 
controversy  with  the  whole  of  his  previously  declared  opinions  on 
Church  and  State,*  yet  there  was  a  boldness  displayed  by  the  party 
at  whose  head  was  his  old  teacher,  and  a  warmth  and  zeal  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  the  Kingdom  of  Christ,  which  appeared,  to  his  eyes,  in 
favourable  contrast  with  the  proverbial  coldness  of  the  "Moderates." 

He  did  not,  however,  publicly  commit  himself  to  a  side,  nor  did  he, 
indeed,  carefully  examine  the  question,  until  the  thickening  of  the 
storm  compelled  him  to  do  so.  A  speech  delivered  by  Mr.  Whigham, 
then  sheriff  of  Perth,  opened  his  eyes  to  the  true  nature  of  the  issue 
set  before  the  Church.  He  went  home  to  Loudoun,  shut  himself  up 
in  his  study,  plunged  into  the  history  and  literature  of  the  contro- 
versy, and  fairly  thought  out  for  himself  the  conclusions  which  deter- 
mined his  line  of  action.  In  April,  1843,  a  small  section  of  the 
Church,  known  by  the  sobriquet  of  "  The  Forty,"  or  "  The  Forty 
Thieves,"  attempted  to  take  a  middle  course  between  extremes.  They 
refused  to  identify  the  principle  of  con-Intrusion  with  the  Veto 
Act,  or  with  its  spirit,  and  were  ready  to  accept  as,  a  compromise  such 
an  arrangement  as  afterwards  became  law  through  Lord  Aberdeen's 
Bill,  by  which  the  utmost  freedom  was  declared  to  belong  to  the  Pres- 

*   "  Third  Crack  about  the  Kirk," p'issim. 


124  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

bytery  to  decide  on  the  suitableness  of  each  presentee  to  the  par- 
ticular circumstances  of  the  parish  to  which  lie  had  been  nominated 
by  the  patron.  They  equally  differed  from  the  extreme  "  Moderates," 
who  were  content  with  the  existing  law,  and  who  did  not  desire  any 
further  popularising  of  the  Church.  "  The  Forty  "  would  undoubted- 
ly have  been  content  had  patronage  been  done  away  altogether,  and 
the  bone  of  contention  for  ever  removed. 

Shortly  after  the  declaration  of  "The  Forty,"  Norman  intimated  to 
Dr.  Leishman,  their  leader,  his  wish  to  append  his  name,  expressing  the 
characteristic  hope  that  "The  Forty  "  would  soon  become  another  '45, 
to  revolutionise  the  policy  of  the  Church. 

At  last  the  war  came  to  his  own  door,  and  he  was  roused  to  a  public 
defense  of  his  principles.  A  deputation  hail  been  sent  to  his  parish, 
for  the  purpose  of  promoting  secession,  and  of  driving  the  people  from 
his  ministry.  He  at  once  addressed  his  parishioners  on  the  disputed 
question  with  such  effect,  that  their  loyalty  was  secured  almost  to  a 
man.  He  next  wrote  a  pamphlet  suited  for  the  common  people.  It 
was  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue,  conducted  in  pithy  Scotch,  and  entitled, 
"  A  Crack  about  the  Kirk."*  Its  wit  and  clearness  of  statement  at 
once  attracted  attention,  and  it  passed  rapidly  through  several  editions. 

The  first  "  Crack  "  was  speedily  followed  by  two  others,  which  were 
hardly  so  racy  in  style,  though  perhaps  quite  as  powerful  in  argument 

About  the  same  period  he  found  himself  placed  in  a  position  of  pain- 
ful responsibility.  The  case  which  had  determined  the  non-eligibility 
of  Chapel  Ministers  to  sit  in  Presbyteries  had  been  that  of  Stewarton, 
in  the  Presbytery  of  Irvine.  He  was  moderator  of  the  Presbytery 
when  the  election  of  commissioners,  to  sit  in  the  ensuing  General 
Assembly  of  '43,  was  to  take  place.  As  moderator  it  was  his  duty  to 
keep  the  actings  of  the  Presbytery  in  due  form  ;  and  as  the  decision  of 
the  Court  of  Session  satisfied  him  that  the  ministers  of  Chapels  quoad 
sacra  had  no  legal  position  in  the  Ecclesiastical  Court,  he  declared  his 
determination  not  to  admit  their  votes,  and  intimated  that,  should  they 
insist  on  retaining  their  seats  at  the  meeting  of  Presbytery,  he  would 
then  separate,  with  all  such  members  as  should  adhere  to  him,  and 
constitute  the  Court  from  a  roll  purged  of  the  names  of  all  not  legally 
qualified.  "  Acircumstanoe  had  come  to  his  knowledge,"  he  said,  "since 
the  last  meeting  that  materially  weighed  with  him  in  the  step  he  was 
about  to  take  at  this  juncture.  It  had  been  declared  by  the  public 
organs  of  the  Non-Intrusionists, -f-  and  he  heard  it  stated  fre- 
quently in  private  and  never  heard  it  contradicted,  that  it  was  the  in- 
tention of  the  party  which  was  about  to  secede,  not  to  retire  merely  as  a 
section  of  the  Church,  but,  by  gaining  a  majority  in  the  Assembly,  to 
declare  the  connection  between  Church  and  State  at  an  end,  and,  more- 
over to  excommunicate  those  who  remained  in  the  Church  as  by  law 
established.     He  would  by  all  constitutional  means,  and  at  all  hazards, 

*See  Appendix  B. 
t  VuU  the  VreshjUrtan  llevicio,  A  [nil,  IS  13. 


THE  DISRUPTION  CONTROVERSY.  125 

do  all  that  in  him  lay  to  prevent  the  venerable  Establishment  to  which 
he  was  attached  from  being  annihilated,  and  himself  and  his  brethren 
from  being  held  up  to  their  people  as  excommunicated  ministers.  And 
to  attain  this  object  he  felt  it  necessary  for  the  members  of  Presbytery 
to  send  none  but  legally  qualified  commissioners  to  the  next  Assembly, 
and  he  saw  no  other  possible  course  for  accomplishing  this  than  separat- 
ing from  their  quoad  sacra  brethren.  He  would  go  further,  perhaps,  to 
evince  his  love  and  attachment  to  the  Church  of  his  fathers  than  by 
merely  giving  up  a  stipend;  and  to  separate  from  his  brethren  with 
whom  lie  had  associated  in  the  Presbytery,  was  as  sore  a  trial  as  any 

lie  had  yet  met  with While  he  gave  the  utmost  credit  to  his 

brethren  on  the  opposite  side  for  the  sincerity  of  their  intentions,  he 
claimed  the  same  credit  from  them  for  his  conduct  in  this  matter,  as 
being  dictated  by  a  conscientious  sense  of  duty."  He  accordingly 
separated  with  those  who  adhered  to  him,  and  the  first  split  in  the 
Church  took  place. 

He  was  a  member  of  the  famous  Assembly  of  '43,  and  used  to  re- 
count the  strange  vicissitudes  of  that  eventful  meeting.  He  gives  some 
reminiscences  in  letters  and  journals,  but  they  are  meagre  compared 
with  those  to  which  his  friends  have  frequently  listened.  "  The  sacri- 
fices," he  often  said,  "were  certainly  not  all  on  one  side."  With  indig- 
nant energy  he  portrayed  the  trial  it  was  to  the  flesh  to  keep  by  the 
unpopular  side  and  to  act  out  what  conscience  dictated  as  the  line  of. 
duty.  If  it  was  hard  to  go  out,  it  was  harder  to' stay  in.  It  would 
have  been  a  relief  to  have  joined  the  procession  of  those  who  passed 
out  amid  the  huzzas  of  the  populace,  and  who  were  borne  on  the  tide 
of  enthusiasm, — greeted  as  martyrs  and  regarded  as  saints,  in  place  of 
remaining  by  the  apparent  wreck  of  all  that  was  lately  a  prosperous 
Church.  The  heart  sank  at  the  spectacle  of  those  empty  benches  where 
once  sat  Chalmers  and  Welsh  and  Gordon,  and  such  able  leaders  as 
Candlish  and  Cunningham ;  while  the  task  of  filling  up  more  than 
four  hundred  vacant  charges,  and  reorganizing  all  the  foreign  mis-, 
sionary  agencies  of  the  Church,  which  had  in  one  day  disappeared, 
was  terribly  disheartening.  There  was  no  encouragement  from  the 
outside  world  for  those  who  began  with  brave  hearts  to  clear  away  the 
wreck.  Scorn  and  hissing  greeted  them  at  every  turn,  as  men  whose 
only  aim  was  "to  abide  by  the  stuff."  One  unpopular  step  had  to  be 
resolutely  taken  after  another,  and  the  impolitic  legislation  of  the  last 
ten  years  reversed.  Unless  there  had  been  in  his  mind  a  deep  sense 
of  duty,  Norman  Macleod  was  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  undertake 
the  dreary  task  which  for  many  a  day  was  assigned  to  him  and  to  his 
brethren.  But  he  did  not  hesitate.  Although  his  heart  was  burdened 
by  its  anxieties,  he  took  his  place  from  that  day  onward  as  a  "restorer 
of  the  breach,"  and  was  spared  to  see  that  the  labours  of  those  who 
endeavoured  in  the  hour  of  danger  to  preserve  the  blessings  of  an 
Established  Church  for  the  country  had  not  been  thrown  away. 

And  the  history  of  both  Churches  has  since  then  amply  vindicated 


126  LIFE  OF  KpniJAN  MACLEOD. 

the  position  taken  by  the  party  which  was  then  ready  to  move  for 
reform  without  disruption.  The  policy  of  "  The  Forty "  has  been 
practically  followed  by  the  Church  for  several  years  past,  and  it  is  that, 
on  the  one  hand,  which  has  led  to  the  gradual  removal  of  the  difficulties 
affecting  Chapels  of  Ease,  by  erecting  them  into  Endowed  Parishes 
quoad  sacra,  and  which,  on  the  other,  has  obtained  from  Parliament  a 
total  repeal  of  the  Law  of  Patronage.  The  problems  which  disturbed 
the  Church  have  thus  been  settled  by  patient  and  devoted  labour,  con- 
ducted in  a  spirit  of  toleration  and  charity  towards  others,  and  with  an 
honest  endeavour  after  reconstruction  on  a  sure  and  national  ground. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  to  many  minds  the  history  of  the 
Free  Church  has  presented  a  marked  contrast  to  this.  In  spite  of  her 
great  energy,  they  believe  that  she  has  failed  to  solve  the  difficulty  she 
herself  raised  as  to  the  relationship  of  Church  and  State.  In  the 
Cardross  case,  her  claim  to  spiritual  independence  within  her  own 
denomination  was  judicially  denied.  May  it  not  therefore  be  questioned 
whether,  after  little  more  than  thirty  years'  existence,  she  does  not 
really  find  herself  without  a  logical  position  between  Voluntaryism  and 
the  Establishment  ? 

Norman  Macleod  made  two  speeches  during  the  memorable  Assembly 
of  1843 — the  first  being  in  reference  to  a  motion  of  Dr.  Cook  for 
rescinding  the  Veto.  A  distinguished  minister  of  the  Church,  who  was 
then  a  student,  records  the  deep  impression  which  this  speech  made. 
The  courage  and  Christian  enthusiasm  of  its  tone,  he  says,  inspired 
confidence  in  the  hearts  of  many  who  were  almost  despairing,  and 
for  his  own  part  greatly  confirmed  his  loyalty.  When  he  heard  it  he 
exclaimed,  "  There  is  life  in  the  old  Church  yet,"  and  gave  himself 
anew  to  its  ministry.  Only  a  condensed  report  remains  of  this  speech, 
but  the  following  extract  gives  some  idea  of  its  bearing  : — 

"  Difficult  as  the  task  is  which  those  who  have  left  us  have  assigned 
to  us,  I,  for  one,  cheerfully,  but  yet  with  chastened  and  determined 
feelings,  accept  of  it.  I  do  so,  God  knoweth,  not  for  my  own  ease  and 
comfort.  If  I  consulted  them,  or  any  selfish  feeling,  I  wTould  take  the 
popular  and  easy  method  of  solving  all  difficulties,  by  leaving  the 
Establishment ;  but  I  am  not  free  to  do  so.  1  glory  in  declaring  that 
this  is  not  a  Free  Presbyterian  Church.  We  are  not  free  to  legislate 
beyond  the  bounds  of  the  constitution  ;  we  are  not  free  to  gratify  our 
own  feelings  at  the  expense  of  the  good  of  the  country.  Neither  are 
Ave  free  from  the  weakness  and  infirmities  of  humanity — its  fears, 
despondencies,  and  anxieties.  No  !  we  are  bound,  but  bound  by  honour, 
conscience,  and  law — by  the  cords  of  love  and  affection — to  maintain 
our  beloved  Established  Church,  and,  through  it,  to  benefit  our  dear 
fatherland.  And  1  am  not  afraid.  By  the  grace  of  God  we  shall 
succeed.  We  shall  endeavor  to  extinguish  the  fire  which  has  been 
kindled,  and  every  fire  but  the  light  of  the  glorious  Gospel,  which  we 
shall,  I  hope,  fan  into  a  brighter  flame.  And  the  beautiful  spectacle 
Avhich  was  presented  to  us  on  Sabbath  evening  in  the  dense  crowd 


THE  DISRUPTION  CONTROVERSY.  127 

assembled  here  to  ask  the  blessing  of  God  on  our  beloved  Church,  en- 
abled me  to  distinguish  amid  the  flames  the  old  motto  flashing  out, 
'  Nee  tamen  consumebatur.'  We  shall  try  to  bring  our  ship  safe  to 
harbour,  and  if  we  haul  down  the  one  flag  '  Retract !  No,  never  !'  we 
shall  hoist  another,  '  Despair  !  No,  never  !'  And  if  I  live  to  come  to 
this  Assembly  an  old  man,  I  am  confident  that  a  grateful  posterity  will 
vindicate  our  present  position,  in  endeavouring,  through  good  report 
and  bad  report,  to  preserve  this  great  national  institution  as  a  blessing 
to  them  and  to  their  children's  children." 

To  the  Rev.  A.  Clerk,  Arclnamurchan. 

"  Loudoun  Manse,  February,  lSlh,  1843. 

"  How  thankful  ought  you  to  be  for  your  lot  being  cast  in  a  parish  which 
is  known  only  to  a  few  sea-fowl,  to  Sir  John  Barrow,  or  the  Trigonometri- 
cal Survey  !  No  convocationist  can  find  you  out — no  Witness  or  Guardian 
newspaper  has  any  conception  where  you  are — no  Commission  would  know 
where  to  send  for  you  if  they  wished  to  depose  you.  The  Church  and 
State  may  be  severed  during  your  life  ere  you  hear  of  the  dissolution, 
or  suffer  by  it.  Happy  recluse  !  fortunate  eremite  !  Pity  a  poor  brother 
who  is  tossed  on  the  sea  of  Lowland  commotion.  He  needs  both  pity  and 
sympathy. 

"  To  be  serious — for  this  is  too  serious  a  time  for  joking — I  am  most 
anxious  to  give  you  an  account  of  my  personal  adventures  in  this  troublous 
time,  and  to  lay  before  you,  for  your  kind,  candid  and  prayerful  advice,  the 
position  in  which  I  may  very  soon  be  placed.  You  know  how  earnestly 
I  have  tried  to  keep  out  of  this  Church  question.  Not  that  I  was  by  any 
means  indifferent  to  its  importance,  for  it  is  connected  with  the  question  of  the 
age  (as  it  has  been  the  question  of  ages  gone  by,  viz. ,  the  relation  of  Church 
and  State,  and  their  mutual  duties),  and  which,  in.  one  form  or  other  is  dis- 
cussed over  Europe.  Neither  was  I  indolent  in  acquiring  information  on  the 
subject,  as  my  extensive  collection  of  pamphlets,  my  Church  history  notes, 
my  underlined  Books  of  Discipline,  Acts  of  Assembly  and  of  Parliament, 
my  repeated  conversations  with  men  of  both  parties,  and  my  own  con- 
science, can  testify.  But  my  heart  does  not  sympathize  with  controversy. 
I  hate  it.  It  is  the  worst  way  of  getting  good.  It  is  at  best  a  sore  operation  ; 
rendered,  perhaps,  necessary  by  the  state  of  the  body  politic — but  neverthe- 
less a  sore  operation  ;  and  I  hate  the  cutting,  flaying,  bleeding,  connected — I 
fear,  inseparably — with  all  such  modes  of  cure.  Besides,  whatever  opinion 
I  might  have  of  their  system  of  Church  and  State  government,  I  really  do 
not  like  the  animus  of  the  Edinburgh  clique.  There  is  a  domineering, 
bullying  temper  about  many  of  them,  a  sort  of  evangelical  method  of 
abusing,  and  a  conscientious  way  of  destroying  a  man's  character  and 
making  him  have  the  appearance  of  being  evil,  which  I  loathe.  The  cold, 
gentlemanly  Moderate,  in  spite  of  his  many  faults,  is  more  bearable  to  my 
flesh  and  blood  than  the  loudspeaking  high  professor,  who  has  as  little  real 

heart  for  religion  as  the  other.     I  would  rather than or .     The 

one  may  be  a  Sadducee,  the  other  looks  like  a  Pharisee.  I  would  sooner 
have  the  glacier  than  the  volcano.  Pardon  me,  Archy,  for  saying  this,but  I  am 
heartily  vexed  with  what  I  have  lived  to  see  done  under  the  cloak  of  Evan- 


123  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

gelism.  I  now  begin  to  understand  how  the  Puritanism  of  Charles  I.'s  time 
should  have  produced  libertinism  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. — aye,  and  the 
persecution  too.  "Well,  I  am  disgressing  from  my  theme.  I  said  that  I 
wished  to  ke.ep  out  of  this  row,  and  to  do  my  Master's  work  and  will  in  my 
dear,  dear  parish.  I  hoped  to  be  let  alone  to  win  souls  quietly  in  this  sweet 
bay  where  we  only  felt  the  pulse-beating  of  that  great  ocean  which  was 
roaring  and  raging  outside.  But  no  !  The  country  must  be  raised  and  ex- 
cited, and  my  parish,  of  course,  did  not  escape.  When  absent  at  Kil- 
ninver,  I  heard  that  B.  of  L.  and  W.  of  B.  had  been  making  arrangements 
for  a  meeting,  both  in  Newmilns  and  Darvel.  The  evening  came — B.  was 
unwell,  and  W.  alone  arrived.  The  place  of  meeting  was  the  Secession 
Church  in  Newmilns  (contrary  to  Mr.  Bruce's  mind),  and  the  Cameronians' 
meeting-place  in  Darvel.  I  went  to  the  first  meeting,  at  seven  o'clock. 
Newmilns,  you  know,  has  nearly  two  thousand  inhabitants,  besides  the 
country  round.  There  were  about  a  hundred  in  church  ;  of  these,  sixty 
were  Chartists,  and  the  rest  Dissenters  and  Churchmen.  W.  spoke  for  an 
hour — very  tamely  and  very  lamely,  I  thought,  but  was  perfectly  civil.  If 
you  only  heard  his  arguments  !  The  gist  of  the  first  part  of  his  speech  was 
this  : — The  Church  ought  to  obey  the  Bible — the  Bible  says,  '  Beware  of 
false  prophets ;'  '  Try  the  spirits,'  &c.  These  are  commands,  duties 
which  must  be  performed,  and  necessarily  imply  liberty  and  power  on 
the  part  of  the  Christian  people  to  judge.  The  ergo  was  the  amusing  thing 
from  these  premises — ergo,  the  Church  passed  the  Veto  Act  !  which  gave 
the  privilege  to  the  male  heads  of  families  to  object !  He  went  on  thus 
until  he  came  to  that  which  a  sausage  has — the  end,  and  then  said  that  if 
any  elders  or  communicants  present  wished  to  sign  their  names  to  certain 
resolutions,  they  would  have  an  opportunity,  and  mentioned  how  successful 
he  had  been  in  other  parishes.  I  could  stand  this  no  longer,  but  sprang  up 
■ — to  the  visible  astonishment  of  W. — and  told  the  people  if  they  had  any 
confidence  in  me  not  to  give  him  one  name,  and  I  would  take  an  early  op- 
portunity of  satisfying  them  that  the  question  was  a  much  more  difficult  one 

than  it  was  represented  to  be  by  Mr.  W .    He  said  nothing,  but  gave  the 

blessing  ! — for  what,  no  one  knew,  for  he  did  not  get  one  name !  In 
Darvel,  however,  he  got  twenty  or  so.  Well,  on  Sabbath,  after  explaining 
my  position,  I  intimated  a  meeting  with  my  people  upon  the  Tuesday  fol- 
lowing. I  had  been  reading  hard  for  weeks  on  the  subject,  and  had  the  facts 
at  my  finger-ends.  The  evening  came,  and  the  church  was  crammed  with 
all  sects  and  parties.  I  do  believe  I  never  had  a  greater  pressure  on  my 
soul  than  I  had  before  this  meeting.  I  did  not  so  much  possess  the  subject 
as  the  subject  possessed  me.  Between  anxiety  to  do  right,  and  a  feeling  of 
degradation  that  I  should  be  looked  upon,  by  even  one  Christian  brother  as 
inimical  to  the  Church  of  Scotland,  not  to  speak  of  the  Chui'ch  of  Christ,  I 
was  so  overcome  that  during  the  singing  of  the  Psalm — 

"  'Therefore  I  wish  that  peace  may  still 
Within  thy  walls  remain,' 

I  wept  like  a  very  child.     I  spoke,  however^  for  three-and-a-half  hours,  and 
not  a  soul  moved  !     Never  did  I  see  such  an  attentive  audience. 

"  The  result  has  been  most  gratifying.    Of  ten  elders  not  one  has  left  me ! 
This  is  singular,  as  I  believe  only  two  in  the  whole  town  of  Kilmarnock 


THE  DISRUPTION  CONTROVERSY.  129 

have  refused  to  join  the  Convocation.  The  people  are  nearly  unanimous,  or 
at  all  events,  are  so  attached  to  me  personally  that  they  are  about  to  present  to 
me  a  gold  watch  and  an  address  from  all  parties.  I  would  be  very  ungrate- 
ful to  God  if  I  were  not  both  gratified  and  humbled  by  this  proof  of  my  dear 
people's  good-will  to  me. 

"  So  far  all  has  been  well  in  my  parish.  But  here  comes  a  row  in  the 
Presbytery,  which  I  greatly  fear  will  be  followed  by  more  serious  conse- 
quences. I  am  Moderator.  You  know,  of  course,  the  decision  in  the  Stew- 
arton  case.  At  the  first  meeting  after  that  decision,  when  the  Interlocutor 
from  the  Court  of  Session  was  laid  upon  the  table,  it  was  moved  that  the 
names  of  the  minister  and  elder  affected  by  it  should  be  struck  off  the  roll. 
A  counter-motion  was  made  and  carried,  that  the  business  of  the  Presbytery 
be  suspended,  and  the  case  referred  to  the  Commission  for  advice.  Against 
this  finding  we  all  {i.e.,  the  'Moderates')  protested.  At  that  meeting  the 
'Moderates'  had  a  minority  of  the  lawful  members  of  court.  But  at  next 
meeting  we  are  satisfied  that  we  shall  have  a  majority  among  the  lawful 
members,  i.e.,  exclusive  of  all  the  Quoad  Sacra  ministers.  What  is  to  be 
done?  'A  question  to  be  asked.'  At  a  private  meeting,  by  the  advice  of 
counsel,  it  was  proposed — and,  I  fear,  agreed  to — that  I  should  insist  on  the 
legal  roll  only  being  read  when  the  vote  is  taken  regarding  the  admission 
of  the  ministers  Quoad  Sacra  to  the  court — that,  in  the  event  of  a  legal 
majority  agreeing  to  dismiss  them,  we  should  adjourn  the  meeting  for  a  few 
minutes,  then  constitute  the  court  anew,  and,  if  any  Chapel  minister  insisted 
on  remaining  in  spite  of  our  decision,  to  turn  him  out.  This  is,  in  all  truth, 
decided  enough. 

"  The  reasons  for  it  are  : — 

"  1.  By  thus  forming  ourselves  into  a  legal  Presbytery  by  the  vote  of  a 
legal  majority,  we  are  enabled  to  stop  the  appeal  to  the  House  of  Lords  on 
the  Stewarton  case — the  decision  on  which  by  the  Court  of  Session  we  know 
there  is  not  the  slightest  chance  of  being  reversed — and  which  we  know 
there  is  no  intention  of  following  out,  the  appeal  only  being  to  gain  time — 
but  which  is  throwing  obstacles  in  the  way  of  those  members  in  other  pres- 
byteries who,  but  for  the  appeal,  would  form  themselves  into  constitutional 
courts. 

"  2.  We  would  thus  send  moderate  men  (in  the  right  sense  of  the  word) 
to  next  Assembly.  This  is  of  great  consequence,  as  it  is  understood — the 
Aberdeen  Banner  makes  no  secret  of  it — that  the  Assembly  may  declare  the 
Church  severed  from  the  State  and  hold  as  schismatics  all  who  differ  from 
that  dictum,  authoritatively  uttered  by  the  Assembly.  Now  we  wish  to 
have  a  set  of  decent  fellows  to  be  presided  over  by  the  Commissioner.  These 
are  the  reasons  for  our  movement,  in  addition  to  the  more  obvious  one  that 
all  our  proceedings,  quoad  civilia  at  least,  are  de  facto  null  and  void  as  long 
as  these  ministers  are  with  us. 

'  "  On  the  other  hand,  will  not  this  step  settle  the  question  as  to  whether 
both  parties  can  remain  together  any  longer  1  1 .  We  separate.  2.  The 
Commission  meets  and  suspends  us.  3.  We  deny  the  right  oi  a  body  illegally 
constituted  to  do  so.  4.  We  send- Commissioners  to  the  Assembly.  5.  Our 
party  receives  them,  the  other  party  rejects  them.  6.  The  receiving  party 
appeals  to  the  Commissioner  as  to  which  is  the  Established  Church,  and  then 
comes  the  split — and  all  this  by  my  vote  and  determination  as  Moderator  !  !  ! 

9 


130  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  Is  this  not  a  fix  for  a  quiet-living  man  like  me  to  be  placed  in  ?  Is  it 
not  enough  to  make  a  man's  hair  grey  1  What  is  to  be  done  ?  '  I  would,' 
as  Sir  John  says,  'you  would  practise  an  answer.' 

"  Our  meeting  is  on  the  first  Tuesday  of  March.  Send  me  your  opinion, 
as  a  Christian  man,  before  that.  How  do  you  think  I  can  best  discharge 
my  duty  to  the  law,  the  Church,  my  people,  and  to  myself,  and  consequently 
to  God  ?  You  observe  I  take  for  granted  the  principle — on  which  you  need 
not  argue — that  in  any  question  relating  to  the  privileges  granted  by  the 
State  to  the  Church,  neither  the  Church,  on  the  one  hand,  nor  the  State,  on 
the  other,  is  the  judge  ;  but  a  third  party,  namely,  the  Civil  Courts,  whose 
duty  it  is  to  say  what  the  Statute  Law  is.  Therefore  I  hold  their  decision 
in  the  Stewarton  case  right  deju re.  At  the  same  time  I  will  use  every 
effort  to  get  the  ministers  of  Quoad  Sacra  churches  legally  into  the  Church. 
The  decision  just  makes  us  fall  back  to  what  we  were  before  '34. 

"  I  have  some  thoughts  of  splitting  the  difficulty  in  the  Presbytery  by 
asking  leave  to  withdraw  from  the  Court,  protesting  against  all  consequences 
which  may  follow  from  letting  these  men  in  ;  and  if  the  other  party  do  not 
agree  to  this,  then  to  run  my  big  jib  up  and  bear  away  for  another  Presby- 
tery. I  am  satisfied  that  a  great  mass  of  the  community  is  sick  of  this 
business.  The  people  feel  no  practical  evil — and  no  nation  was  ever  yet 
roused  to  revolution  by  a  mere  theory.  Had  it  not  been  for  indulgences 
and  such  like  practical  evils,  Luther  would  not  have  had  material  with  which 
to  begin  the  war,  though,  after  it  was  once  begun  opinions  could  keep  it 
agoing.  If  the  Covenanters  had  not  been  shot  and  bayoneted,  no  theory 
regarding  Church  or  State  would  have  made  them  sleep  in  moss-bogs  or  fight 
at  Drumclog. 

"  What  did  you  think  of  C.  of  C.  saying,  '  The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  will 
have  left  the  Church  when  we  go  !'  One  of  the  Rothesay  ministers,  I  am 
told,  said  the  other  day,  that  the  Devil  was  preparing  a  cradle  in  hell  for 
the  opposition  !  Yet  I  daresay,  in  a  century  after  this,  we  shall  have  some 
partisan  historian  writing  whining  books  about  these  persecuted,  self-denying, 
far-seeing  saints,  and  describing  all  who  oppose  them  as  lovers  of  the  fleece, 
dumb  dogs,  and  all  that  trash." 

To  his  sister  Jane  ; — 

"  I  am  very  dowie  and  cast  down — not  because  I  am  alone,  for  I  love  the 
bachelor  life  every  day  more  and  more,  and  delight  in  the  independence  with 
which  I  can  rise,  eat,  read,  write  when  I  like  ! — but  this  Church  of  ours  is 
going  between  me  and  my  sleep. 

"  There  was  a  private  meeting  of  our  party  the  day  before  yesterday  at 
Irvine.  All  that  was  done  was  strictly  private,  but  most  important ;  and 
only  think  of  this — just  think  of  it — that  I  Norman  McLeod,  shall  certainly 
be  obliged  to  make  the  move  which  will  beyond  a  doubt  first  separate  the 
Church  into  two  parts  ! !  This  is  confidence.  It  is  making  my  head  grey. 
As  Strong  says,  I  am  this  moment  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  My 
simple  vote  as  Moderator  will  decide  the  game  one  way  or  another.  In 
short,  the  hurricane  is  only  beginning.  The  explosion  is  to  come,  and//// 
must  fire  the  train.  Well,  I  think  I  will  get  enough  of  acting  now,  and  no 
mistake.  Suspension,  and  anathemas  loud  and  deep  from  the  Witness,  are 
ail   before  me  as  possibilities.     You  can  fancy  my  cogitations,  my  working 


THE  DISRUPTION  CONTROVERSY  131 

out  of  problems.  David  Strong  came  here  and  spent  yesterday  with  me. 
He  went  away  to-day.     We  had  a  delightful  walk  together.      He  goes  with 

us,  and  we  feel  as  one.     I  gave  a  great  blowing  up  to ,  who  said  with 

a  sneer  when  lie  heard  me  express  my  many  difficulties,  '  Oh,  it  is  quite 
plain  that  Macleod  does  not  like  it ! '  '  Like  it  ! '  I  said,  turning  round  on 
him  like  a  tiger,  '  let  me  assure  you,  sir,  that  I  look  upon  it  as  one  of  the 
sorest  trials  that  have  ever  come  my  way,  and  that  I  would  give  a  year's 
stipend  and  ten  times  more  to  get  quit  of  it.'     All  the  others  backed  me." 

To  the  Same  : — 

"  Edinburgh,   Thursday  Mur.ilng,  Half -past  Seven,  May,  1843. 

"  The  day  has  come,  beautiful  in  the  physical  world,  but  thundery  and 
ominous  in  the  moral  one.  All  the  '  Convocationists'  are  going  out.  They 
have  been  unanimous.  No  vote  is  to  be  taken  on  any  point.  They  lodge 
a  protest  and  walk.  The  excitement  is  prodigious.  I  am  very  sad,  but  in 
no  way  frightened.  Many  are  acting  from  fear  of  public  opinion  as  much 
as  anything  else.  .   .  ." 

To  the  Same  : — 

"Thursday  Evening,  May  18,  1843. 

"  They  are  off.  Four  hundred  and  fifty  ministers  and  elders,  one  hundred 
and  fifty  members.  Three  have  gone  since  the  Queen's  letter  was  read. 
Welsh's  sermon  was  the  beau  ideal  of  one.  Everything  in  their  conduct  was 
dignified. 

"  God  bless  all  the  sei'ious  among  them.  The  row  is  only  beginning.  I 
am  to  protest  against  the  Strathbogies.  I  am  lighter  than  in  the  morning,, 
though  very  dowie.  I  think  we  may,  by  God's  blessing,  survive.  An  im- 
mense crowd  in  the  New  Assembly.  Welsh,  and  then  Chalmers,  moderator. 
The  procession  was  solemn,  I  am  told.  Some  sad,  but  others  laughing  /' 
The  contrast  between  the  old  and  the  young  was  very  striking. 

«  P. S.— They  are  out  of  the  Church." 

"  I  take  my  stand  for  Constitutional  Reform.  We  are  at  our  worst.  If- 
we  survive  this  week  we  shall  swim.  How  my  soul  rises  against  those 
men,  who  have  left  us  to  rectify  their  blundering,  and  then  laugh  at  our 
inability  to  do  so." 

To  the  Same  :— 

"Tuesday,  May  23. 

"  I  have  but  five  minutes.  The  Strathbogie  case  is  over,  thank  God  1 
I  think  we  may  swim.  It  was  to  me  a  terrible  night.  I  spoke  till  half- 
past  twelve  p.m.  I  voted  twice  yesterday  against  my  old  friends.  I  could 
not  help  it.  I  followed  my  own  judgment.  Great  gloom,  but  not  despair. 
Four  hundred  and  fifty  have  this  day  for  ever  abandoned  the  Church." 

To  the  Same  : — 

"  Thursday. 

"  No  one  but  a  member  oi  Assembly — and  of  such  an  Assembly  as  the 
present — can  understand  how  difficult  a  thing  it  is  to  command  quiet  time 
and  quiet  thoughts,  so  as  to  be  enabled  to  write  a  legible  and  interesting 
letter.     I  am  unfit  for  the  task. 

"  We  are  going  ahead  slowly ;  our  disagreeable  work  is  now  riearly  over. 


132  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

We  yesterday  reached  zero,  when  the  whole  Free  Presbyterians  formally 
resigned  their  status  as  parish  ministers.  I  believe  I  intensely  realise  the 
position  of  our  Church,  which  some  of  the  Aberdeenshire  'Moderates'  do 
not.  The  best  temper  prevails  in  the  Assembly  upon  the  whole,  but  upon 
our  weak  side  there  is  a  general  gloom  when  contemplating  the  awful  task 
before  us  of  filling  up  four  hundred  and  thirty  vacancies,  in  the  face  of  an 
agitation  conducted  by  four  hundred  and  thirty  sworn,  able,  energetic 
enemies.  I  look  forward  to  five  years  as  the  period  of  reaction.  We  shall 
have,  1 ,  fearful  religious  excitement  or  hysterical  revivals,  the  women  and 
ladies  leading;  2,  starvation  from  the  effect  of  voluntaryism;  3,  ecclesiasti- 
cal tyranny;  4,  a  strong  and  united  combination  of  all  Dissenters  against 

'all  the  Establishments  of  this  countiy,'  to  borrow 's  words;  and  when 

these  features  of  this  secession  begin  to  manifest  themselves  then,  but  not 
till  then,  will  the  tide  fully  turn. 

"  I  wait  in  hope  and  with  patience.  I  am  ashamed  at  the  cowardice  and 
terror  of  many  of  our  ministers.  I  feel  the  secession  deeply,  but  I  am  pos- 
sessed with  a  most  chivalrous  and  firm  determination  to  live  and  die  fisrht. 
ing  for  this  bulwark  of  Protestantism,  this  ark  of  righteousness,  this  conser. 
vator  of  social  order  and  religious  liberty,  the  dear  old  Kirk. 

"  May  God  help  us,  and  then  I  will  not  fear  what  man  can  do.  I  trust 
that  posterity  will  vindicate  our  doings.    It  is  for  future  generations  we  are 

now  suffering.     has  tried  to  cut  up  my  speech,  but  he  must  have 

known  that  I  never  meant  what  he  alleges.  But  there  is,  I  grieve  to  think 
it,  a  great  want  of  honour  amongst  a  certain  set  of  these  men.  I  am  just 
informed  that  I  am  to  be  offered  an  Edinburgh  Church.  This  will  put  a 
finish  to  my  troubles.  I  dare  not  think  of  the  subject.  I  hope  I  have  one 
feeling — a  desire  to  sacrifice  myself  for  my  country;  but  whether  will  I  do 
most  good,  in  Loudoun,  near  Loudoun,  or  here '?  As  to  the  living,  poor  as 
it  is,  and  much  as  I  have  to  pay,  I  could  bear  with  it." 

To  the  Same  : — 

"May  27,  1843. 

■"I  am  at  present,  I  begin  to  suspect,  rather  a  black  sheep  among  tl,o 
'Moderates,'  because  I  dare  to  have  a  mind  of  my  own,  and  to  act  as  a  check, 
though  a  fearfully  trifling  one,  on  their  power.  Another  day  is  coming;  and 
come  what  may,  there  shall  be  one  free  Presbyterian  in  Scotland  who  will 
not  give  up  his  own  understanding  or  conscience  to  living  man. 

"  I  intend  to  give  my  farewell  speech  on  Monday.  We  have  been  as  cold 
as  ice  and  looking  as  if  we  were  all  to  be  shot.  The  Free  Church  is  carry- 
ing it  on  most  nobly.  They  know  human  nature  better  than  we  do.  But 
defense  never  has  the  glory  of  attack.  I  leave  all  to  posterity,  and  am  not 
aifcaid  of  the  verdict.  I  saw  a  tomb  to-day  in  the  Chapel  of  Holyrood  with 
this  inscription,  'Here  lies  an  honest  man.'  I  only  wish  to  live  in  such  a 
way  as  to  entitle  me  to  have  the  same  eloge. 

u  My  Father  is  off     My  soul  is  sick." 

From  his  Journal  :  — 

"June  2nd,  1S43. — I  have  returned  from  the  Assembly  of  1843,  one 
which  will  be  famous  in  the  annals  of  the  Church  of  Scotland.  Yet  who 
will  ever  know  its  real  history1?  .  The  great  movements,  the  grand  results, 


THE  DISRUPTION  CONTROVERSY.  133 

will  certainly  be  known,  and  everything  lias  been  done  in  the  way  most 
calculated  to  tell  on  posterity  (for  how  many  have  been  acting  before  its 
eyes !);  but  who  in  the  next  century  will  know  or  understand  the  ten  thousand 
secret  influences,  the  vanity  and  pride  of  some,  the  love  of  applause,  the  fear 
and  terror,  of  others,  and,  above  all,  the  seceding  mania,  the  revolutionary 
mesmerism,  which  I  have  witnessed  within  these  few  days  ? 

"  It  was  impossible  to  watch  the  progress  of  this  schism  without  seeing 
that  it  was  inevitable. 

"To  pass  and  to  maintain  at  all  hazards  laws,  which  by  the  highest 
authorities  were  declared  to  be  inconsistent  with  and  subversive  of  civil 
statutes,  could  end  only  in  breaking  up  the  Establishment.  So  Dr.  Cook 
said.  So  Dr.  McCrie  said  in  his  evidence  before  the  House  of  Commons-. 
The  Procurator  told  me  that  when  the  Veto  Law  was  first  proposed,  Lord 
Moncrieff  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  Church  had  power  to  pass  it ; 
that  he  was  unwilling  to  go  to  Parliament  for  its  approval  until  it  was  cer- 
tain that  its  approval  was  necessary,  but  that  should  this  become  apparent, 
then  unquestionably  the  Church  ought  to  apply  for  a  legislative  enactment. 
This  advice  was  not  taken,  and  all  the  subsequent  difficulties  have  arisen 
out  of  the  determination  to  force  that  law. 

"  The  event  which  made  a  disruption  necessary  was  the  deposition  of  the 
Strathbogie  ministers  for  obeying  the  interpretation  of  statute  law  given  by 
the  civil  court,  instead  of  that  given  by  the  Church  court.  The  moment 
one  part  of  the  Church  solemnly  deposed  them,  and  another  as  solemnly 
determined  to  treat  them  as  not  deposed,  the  Church  became  virtually  two 
Churches,  and  their  separation  became  inevitable.  * 

"Thursday,  the  18th,  was  a  beautiful  clay;  but  a  general  sense  of  oppres- 
sion was  over  the  town.  Among  many  of  the  seceding  party,  upon  that 
and  on  the  successive  days  of  the  Assembly,  there  was  an  assumed  levity  of 
manner — a  smiling  tone  of  countenance,  which  seemed  to  say,  'Look  what 
calm,  cool,  brave  martyrs  we  are.'  There  were  two  incidents  which  con- 
vinced me  that  the  old  and  soberer  part  of  the  seceders  had  a  very  different 
feeling  from  the  younger  and  more  violent,  regarding  the  magnitude  and 
consequence  of  this  movement.    I  was  in  St.  Giles's  half  an  hour  before  Welsh 

began  his  sermon;  two  or  three  benches  before  me and ,  with  a 

few  of  this  hot  genus  omne,  wei'e  chattering  and  laughing.  During  the 
singing  of  the  Paraphrase  old  Brown  (dear,  good  man)  of  St.  John's,  Glasgow, 
was  weeping ;  but was  idly  staring  round  the  church.  So  in  the  pro- 
cession some  were  smiling  and  appeared  heedless,  but  the  old  men  were  sad 
and  cast  down.  Welsh's  sermon  was  in  exquisite  taste,  and  very  calm  and 
dignified;  but  its  sentiments,  I  thought,  were  a  century  ahead  of  many  of 
his  convocation  friends.  His  prayer  at  the  opening  of  the  Assembly  was 
also  beautiful.  The  Assembly  presented  a  stirring  sight.  But  still  I  was 
struck  by  the  smiling  of  several  on  the  seceding  side,  as  if  to  show  how  light 
their  hearts  were  when,  methinks,  they  had  no  cause  to  be  so  at  the  begin- 
ning of  such  a  great  revolution.  The  subsequent  movements  of  the  two 
Assemblies  are  matters  of  history.  The  hissing  and  cheering  in  the  galleries 
and  along  the  line  of  procession  were  tremendous. 

"  Never  did  I  pass  such  a  fortnight  of  care  and  anxiety.  Never  did  men 
engage  in  a  task  with  more  oppression  of  spirit  than  we  did,  as  we  tried  to 
preserve  this  Church  for  the  benefit  of  our  children's  children. 


134  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  The  Assembly  was  called  upon  to  perform  a  work  full  of  difficulty,  and  to 
do  such  unpopular  things  as  restoring  the  Strathbogie  ministers,  rescinding  the 
Veto,  &c.  We  were  hissed  by  the  mob  in  the  galleries,  looked  coldly  on 
by  many  Christians,  ridiculed  as  enemies  to  the  true  Church,  as  lovers  of 
ourselves,  seeking  the  fleece;  and  yet  what  was  nearest  my  own  heart  and 
that  of  my  friends  was  the  wish  to  preserve  this  Establishment  for  the  well- 
being  of  Britain.  While  'the  persecuted  martyrs  of  the  covenant'  met 
amid  the  huzzas  and  applauses  of  the  multitude,  with  thousands  of  pounds 
daily  pouring  in  upon  them,  and  nothing  to  do  but  what  was  in  the  highest 
degree  popular;  nothing  but  self-denial  and  a  desire  to  sacrifice  name  and 
fame,  and  all  but  honour,  to  my  country,  could  have  kept  me  in  the  Assem- 
bly. There  was  one  feature  of  the  Assembly  which  I  shall  never  forget, 
and  that  was  the  fever  oi  secession,  the  restless,  nervous  desire  to  fly  to  the 
Free  Church.  No  new  truth  had  come  to  light,  no  new  event  had  been 
developed,  but  there  was  a  species  of  frenzy  which  seized  men,  and  away 

they  went.     One  man  ( ,  of )  said  to  me,  'I  must  go ;  I  am  a  lover 

of  the  Establishment,  but  last  autumn  I  signed  the  convocation  resolutions. 
All  my  people  will  leave  me.  I  never  will  take  a  church  left  vacant  by  my 
seceding  brethren.  If  I  do  not,  I  am  a  beggar.  If  I  stay  I  lose  all  charac- 
ter. I  must  go;'  and  away  he  went,  sick  at  heart;  and  many  I  know  have 
been  unconsciously  led  step  by  step,  by  meetings,  by  pledges,  by  rash  state- 
ments, into  a  position  which  they  sincerely  lament  but  cannot  help.  There 
are  many  unwilling  Latimers  in  that  body.  This  1  know  right  well.  It 
amuses  me,  who  have  been  much  behind  the  scenes,  to  read  the  lithographed 
names  of  seme  as  hollow-hearted  fellows  as  ever  ruined  a  country  from  love 
of  glory  and  applause.  But  there  are  also  many  others  there  who  would  do 
honour  to  any  cause. 

"  What  is  to  be  the  upshot  of  this  1 

"  1.  The  first  rock  I  fear  is  fanaticism  in  Boss-shire  and  other  parts  of 
the  country,  such  as  has  been  witnessed  only  in  America.  I  have  already 
heard  of  scenes  and  expressions  which  would  hardly  be  credited.  (Nov. — 
The  riots  in  Boss-shire  show  this  has  been  fulfilled  !) 

"  2.  A  union  with  all  the  Voluntaries  to  overthrow  the  Establishments  of 
this  country. 

"  3.  Ecclesiastical  despotism  on  the  part  of  the  laity  and  influential 
clergy. 

"  4.  The  consequence  of  this  will  be,  the  retiring  ot  the  more  sober- 
minded  from  their  ranks. 

"  5.  Action,  excitement,  and  perpetual  motion  are  absolutely  necessary 
to  the  existence  of  this  Free  Church  ;  and  it  is  impossible  as  yet  to  foresee 
whether  it  will  blow  up  itself,  or  blow  up  the  whole  British  constitution,  or 
sink  into  paltry  dissent. 

"  I  hope  it  will  also  stir  up  the  Establishment  and  purify  us,  make  us 
more  self-sacrificing  and  self-denying  than  ever,  and  so  all  these  disasters 
may  advance  the  Bedeemer's  glory. 

"  Aug.  14. — What  an  important  period  of  my  personal  history  has  passed 
since  I  wrote  my  last  Diary  !  Since  the  division  in  the  Fresbytery  of  Irvine 
until  this  moment  the  troubles  in  the  Church,  the  writing  of  pamphlets,  the 
disruption,  the  Assembly,  the  preachings,  the  attending  meetings,  the  re- 
fusing of  parishes,  has  altogether  formed  a  time  long  to  be  remembered. 

"  Let  me  try  and  jot  a  mere  table  of  contents. 


THE  DISRUPTION  CONTROVERSY.  135 

"  I.— PUBLIC  LIFE. 

"  1.  I  was  Moderater  of  the  Presbytery  when  it  separated  on  the  busi- 
ness of  the  ministers  of  Quoad  Sacra  churches.  I  moved  to  retire,  pi'oba- 
bly  never  as  a  presbytery  to  meet  again  !  I  did  this,  after  much  hesitation 
and  many  deep  and,  I  hope,  prayerful  anxieties,  (1)  Because  I  believed  that 
it  was  law.  (2.)  Because  while  it  was  the  law,  as  stated  by  the  courts  of 
the  country,  which  I  conceive  were  alone  competent  to  do  so,  and  so  the 
condition  on  which  the  Church  was  established,  it  did  not  interfere  with  the 
law  of  Christ,  as  I  see  nothing  in  the  New  Testament  which  makes  it  neces- 
sary for  ministers  to  rule  in  Church  courts.  The  preservation  of  the  Estab- 
lishment I  felt  to  be  more  necessary.  (3)  It  was  the  avowed  intention  of 
the  High  Church  party  to  get  the  majority  in  the  Assembly  by  means  of 
the  Quoad  Sacras  (the  appeal  to  the  Lords  being  a  sham,  and  as  such 
dropped  immediately  after  the  commissioners  were  elected),  and  then,  as  the 
Assembly  of  the  National  Church,  to  dissolve  the  connection  between 
Church  and  State,  excommunicating  those  who  might  remain. 

"  In  these  circumstances  I  saw  only  one  path  open  for  me,  i.e.,  to  form 
ourselves  into  a  separate  Presbytery,  and  send  proper  commissioners  to  the 
Assembly 

"2.  I  was  a  member  of  the  Assembly.  It  is  now  a  matter  of  history. 
"  The  '  Moderates'  were  too  much  blamed,  I  opposed  them.  I  could  do 
so.  I  was  a  free  man,  but  they  were  pledged.  They  could  act  only  as  they 
did  in  treating  the  Strathbogie  deposition  as  null  and  void,  i.e.,  wrong — 
being  on  wrong  gi-ounds — and  in  rescinding  the  veto.  I  believe  the  Act  of 
'79  respecting  the  admission  of  ministers  of  other  Churches  to  our  pulpits, 
was  restored  for  this  reason,  viz.,  had  this  Act  not  been  restored,  and  had  a 
weak  brother  in  the  Establishment  been  asked  for  the  use  of  his  pulpit  by 
a  Free  Churchman,  he  must  either  have  given  it  or  refused  it.  If  he  did 
the  first,  it  would  have  been  made  the  lever  for  overthrowing  the  interests 
of  the  Church  in  that  parish.  If  he  did  the  last,  he  would  be  held  up  to 
the  scorn  of  the  people  as  a  coward  or  a  tyrant.     Nothing  is  more  ludicrous 

than  's  assertion  that  by  this  Act  the  Church  has  excommunicated 

Christendom  !      Why,  he  and  his  party  were  in  power  nine  years  while  the 
existing  law  was  the  law  of  th£  Church. 

"  The  last  Assembly  saw  the  Church  at  its  lowest  ebb.  The  reforming 
party  was  represented  by  our  poor  fifteen.  They  alone  by  vote  and  dissent 
opposed  the  '  Moderates,'  and  formed  a  kind  of  nucleus  for  a  strong  party. 
We  are  now  as  Dr.  Thomson  was  twenty  years  ago.  But  the  limits  of  the 
powers  of  the  Establishment  are  better  defined.  We  have  already  received 
a  lesson  not  to  reform  beyond  these  limits ;  but  I  believe  next  Assembly 
will  exhibit  a  strong  party  determined  to  popularise  the  Church  as  far  as 
possible  within  these  limits,  and,  if  possible,  to  extend  them.  For  my  own 
part,  I  think  it  is  a  principle,  a  political  necessity,  to  make  the  Church  ac- 
ceptable to  the  people,  as  far  as  Bible  principle  will  permit.  I  rather  think 
the  struggle  against  patronage  is  to  be  renewed,  and  that  twenty  years  will 
see  its  death.  The  question  will  soon  be  tried — a  republican  Church  Estab- 
lishment or  disestablishment.  I  would  sooner  have  the  first.  If  we  attempt 
to  recede  we  shall  be  crushed  like  an  old  bandbox. 

"  The  reason  why  I  can  conscientiously  remain  in  the  Church  is  simply 


136  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

because  I  believe  I  have  spiritual  liberty  to  obey  every  thing  in  God's 
"Word.  I  know  of  no  verse  in  it  which  I  cannot  obey  as  well  as  any  seceder 
can.     This  suffices  me. 

"  During  this  controversy  I  published  two  small  brochures  entitled  'Cracks 
about  the  Kirk  for  Kintra  Folk.'  The  first  sold  well.  It  went  thro\igh 
eight  editions  one  thousand  each,  the  second  through  four.     They  did  much 

good. 

"  Since  the  disruption  I  have  been  offered  the  first  charge  of  Cupar, 
Fife ;  Maybole ;  Campsie  (by  all  the  male  communicants)  ;  St.  John's, 
Edinburgh  ;  St.  Ninian's,  Stirlingshire  j  Tolbooth,  Edinburgh;  and  the  elders 
and  others  in  the  West  Church,  Greenock,  have  petitioned  for  me.  As  yet 
I  have  refused  all  but  the  last  two.  These  have  only  come  under  my  notice 
last  week. 

"  I  shall  ever  bear  in  my  heart  a  grateful  remembrance  of  the  kindness 
and  deep  Christian  affection  shown  to  me  by  the  people  here.  When  I 
nearly  accepted  Campsie,  I  found  many  whom  I  thought  rocks,  sending 
forth  tears,  and  gathered  fruit  from  what  appeared  stony  ground.  God  has, 
I  believe,  blessed  my  ministry.  Now,  all  this  and  ten  times  more  than  I 
can  mention  occurred  just  as  I  had  made  up  my  mind  not  to  go  to  Campsie. 

"Oct.  Kith. — I  was  elected  on  the  16th  of  September  to  the  Tolbooth 
Church,  Edinburgh,  unanimously.  On  the  17th  of  the  same  month  the 
Duke  of  Buccleuch's  Commissioner,  Mr.  Scott  Moncrieff,  came  here  and  of- 
fered me  the  parish  of  Dalkeith. 

"  On  the  very  day  of  my  election  to  Edinburgh,  I  went  to  see  Dalkeith  ; 
and  on  my  return  home'  I  sent  a  letter  accepting  it.  One  reason  among 
others  for  preferring  Dalkeith  to  Edinburgh  is,  that  I  prefer  a  country 
parish  to  a  town  because  I  am  in  better  health,  and  because  the  fever  and 
excitement  and  the  kind  of  work  on  Sabbath  days  and  week  days  in  Edin- 
burgh would  do  me  much  harm,  bodily  and  spiritually. 

"  But  why  do  I  leave  Loudoun— dear,  dear  Loudoun  1     Because 

[Here  follows  a  blank  page,  and  on  it  is  this  entry : — ] 

« 1845. — Reviewing  this,  I  find  this  page  blank.  Why,  I  cannot  tell ; 
perhaps  hardly  knew.  But  I  know  I  was  convinced  that  I  ought  to  accept 
Dalkeith,  and  I  do  not  repent  as  far  as  Dalkeith  is  concerned— but  poor 
Loudoun  ! " 

To  Rev.  Wm.  Leitch  :—  "July  21,  1843. 

"  I  have  been  fearfully  occupied  of  late.  Indeed  I  am  sick— sick  of  books, 
pamphlets,  parsons,  and  parishes.  Would  we  had  an  Inquisition  !  One 
glorious  auto-da-fe  would  finish  the  whole  question  ! 

"  As  to  the  question,  I  think  we  are  now  at  dead  ebb  in  the  country,  and 
that  for  the  time  to  come  the  tide  will  change,  and  in  a  century  or  so— such 
is  the  genius  of  restless  Presbyterianism— it  will  begin  to  ebb  again.  Our 
ecclesiastical  maxima  and  minima  seem  to  alternate  or  oscillate  every  hun- 
dred years  or  so.  I  hate— by  the  way— above  all  things  a  Presbyterian 
revolution.  There  is  always  something  Chartist  or  fanatic  about  it.  ^  The 
jus  divinum  being  stamped  upon  every  leading  ecclesiastic,  everything  in  the 
civilized  world  must  be  overthrown  which  stands  in  the  way  of  his  notions 
being  realized.  I  think  the  present  Establishment  has  indirectly  saved  the 
monarchy." 


THE  DISRUPTION  CONTROVEltSY.  137 

2'o  his  sister  Jane  : — 

"Kirkton  (Campsie),  Saturday  Night,  1843. 

"  I  am  very,  very  low.  I  have  preached  in  that  place  to-day,  and  have 
been  in  the  Manse.  Manse  and  glen  are  sleeping  in  the  pale  moonshine.  I 
am  oppressed  to  the  earth  with  thoughts  and  feelings.  The  voices  of  the 
departed  are  ringing  in  my  ears  I  have  suffered  more  than  I  can  tell.  Jt 
is  horrid  ;  dearest,  I  never  could  live  here  !" 

To  John  Mackintosh,  at  Cambridge  : — 

"Loudoun  Manse,  August  30,  1843. 

"  Oh,  for  a  day  of  peace — one  of  those  peaceful  days  which  I  used  to  enjoy 
when  a  boy  in  the  far  west.  Such  days  are  gone,  fled.  I  cannot  grasp  the 
sense  of  repose  I  once  felt — that  feeling,  you  know,  which  one  has  in  a  lonely 
corry  or  by  a  burnie's  side  far  up  among  the  mountains,  when,  far  from  the 
noise  and  turmoil  of  mortal  man,  and  the  fitful  agitations  of  this  stormy  life, 
our  souls  in  solitude  became  calm  and  serene  as  the  blue  sky  on  which  we 
gazed  as  we  lay  half  asleep  in  body,  though  awake  in  soul,  among  the 
brackens  or  the  blooming  heather.  Could  Isaak  Walton  be  a  member  of  a 
Scotch  Presbytery  or  General  Assembly  1 — he  who  '  felt  thankful  for  his 
food  and  raiment — the  rising  and  setting  sun — the  singing  of  larks — and 
leisure  to  go  a-angling'  1  Dear  old  soul  !  '  One  of  the  lovers  Of  peace  and 
quiet,  and  a  good  man,  as  indeed  most  anglers  are.'    Isaak  never  would  have 

been  a  member  of  any  committee  along  with and  Co.     That  is 

certain.  Don't  be  angry,  dear  John  !  Do  let  me  claver  with  you,  and  smile 
or  cry  just  as  I  feel  inclined.  We  shall  slide  into  business  and  gravity  soon 
enough. 

".  .  .  .  As  to  Non-intrusion,  unless  histoxy  lies,  we  have  guaranteed  to 
us  now  more  than  we  ever  acted  on  for  a  hundred  years,  and  as  much  as  the 
Church,  except  during  a  short  period,  ever  had.  We  can  reject  a  presentee 
for  any  reason  which  we  think  prevents  him  from  being  useful ;  and  this  is 
all  the  power  the  Church  ever  had.  Simple  dissent  was  never  considered  as 
itself  a  sufficient  reason  for  rejecting  a  presentee. 

"  As  to  spiritual  independence.  In  spite  of  all  the  Court  of  Session  can 
do,  or  has  done,  there  is  not  a  thing  in  God's  Word  which  I  have  not  as 
much  freedom  to  obey  in  the  Church  as  out  of  it.  I  cannot  lay  my  hand  on 
my  heart  and  say,  '  I  leave  the  Establishment  because  in  it  I  cannot  obey 
Christ,  or  do  so  much  for  His  glory  in  it  as  out  of  it.'  I  thank  God  I  was 
saved  from  the  fearful  excitement  into  which  many  of  my  friends  were  cast 
during  May.     I  have  been  blessed  in  my  parish. 

"  Banish  the  idea  of  my  ever  ceasing  to  love  you  as  long  as  you  love  truth. 
You  know  my  latitudinarian  principles  in  regard  to  Church  government — 
old  clothes.  I  value  each  form  in  proportion  as  it  gains  the  end  of  making 
man  more  meet  for  Heaven.  At  the  same  time  I  cannot  incur  the  responsi- 
bility of  weakening  the  Establishment — that  bulwark  of  Protestantism — that 
breakwater  against  the  waves  of  democracy  and  of  revolution — that  ark  of 
a  nation's  righteousness — that  beloved  national  Zion,  lovely  in  its  strength, 
but  more  beloveu  in  the  day  of  its  desolation  and  danger." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"Dec.  3,  1843,  Sabbath  Night,  past  Eleven. — The  last  communion  Sabbath 


138  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

is  over  which  I  shall  ever  enjoy  as  minister  of  this  parish.  The  congrega- 
tion is  dismissed — whither,  oh  whither  1  How  many  shall  partake  of  the 
feast  above  1 

"  I  can  hardly  describe  my  feelings.  I  felt  as  if  I  had  been  at  the  funeral 
of  a  beloved  Christian  friend  ;  where  I  had  experienced  deep  and  unfeigned 
sorrow,  but  mingled  with  much  to  comfort  and  cheer. 

"  I  thank  a  gracious  God  for  the  support  He  has  given.  And  though  I 
wept  sore  and  had  a  severe  day,  I  did  not  repent  of  the  choice  I  had  made. 
Dear,  dear  Loudoun  has  been  an  oasis  during  these  five  years.  But  'I  am 
a  stranger  and  a  sojourner,  as  all  my  fathers  were,'  and  I  only  pray  God 
that  my  vows  made  this  day  may  be  performed,  that  my  sins  may  be  for- 
given, and  that  I  may  ever  retain  a  lively  sense  of  the  mercies  I  have  received. 

"  There  is  a  Church  here,  by  the  grace  of  God.  Oh,  that  God  may  keep 
it  by  His  power,  and  send  a  pastor  according  to  His  mind  to  feed  it. 

"Dec.  16th,  Sabbath  night,  eleven. — This  has  been  a  solemn,  yet  a  calm, 
peaceful,  and  I  hope  a  profitable  day  for  myself  and  the  people.  My  last 
Sabbath  in  Loudoun  as  its  minister!  What  a  thing  it  is  to  write  the  last 
leaf  of  the  book  of  my  ministry,  that  has  been  open  for  nearly  six  years ! 

"The  parting  with  my  evening  congregation  quite  overcame  me.  I  had 
a  good  greet  in  the  pulpit  when  they  were  all  going  out,  and  I  hope  my 
prayers  for  forgiveness  and  acceptance  were  all  heard  and  answered. 

"The  coming  hope  at  night  with  dear  Jane  (beloved  companion — more 
than  sister — of  all  my  sunshine  and  shade)  was  the  most  affecting  of  all. 
The  night  was  a  dusky  moonlight.  About  a  hundred  Sabbath-school  child- 
ren had  collected  round  the  church  gate,  surrounded  by  groups  of  women, 
and  all  so  sad  and  sorrowful.  As  we  came  along,  some  one  met  us  every 
twenty  yards  who  was  watching  for  us;  and  I  shall  never  forget  those  sup- 
pressed sobs  and  clutchings  of  the  hand,  and  deep  and  earnest  'God  bless 
you !'  '  God  be  with  you !' 

"How  many  thoughts  press  upon  me!  The  sins  of  the  past.  Thou  know- 
est!  The  mercy  and  love  of  God.  The  singular  grace  shown  to  me  at  this 
time.  The  good  effected  by  me — by  such  a  poor,  vile,  sinful  worm.  The 
gratitude  of  my  people  for  the  little  I  have  done.  The  fear  and  trembling 
in  entering  on  a  new  field  of  labour;  the  awful  passing  of  time;  the  coming 
Judgment ! 

"Dec.  13th. — The  last  night  in  my  study  in  my  dear  Manse  of  Loudoun, 
the  scene  of  so  many  anxieties  and  communings — of  sweet  intercourse,  of 
study,  of  sinful  and  unprofitable  thoughts ! 

"I  have  had  three  days  of  the  most  deeply  solemn  and  anxious  scenes  I 
have  ever  witnessed  in  this  world !  Oh,  what  overwhelming  gratitude  and 
affection!  Let  me  never,  never,  never,  O  God,  forget  what  I  have  seen  and 
heard ! 

"I  have  done  good — more  than  I  knew  of.  May  the  Lord  advance  it, 
and  bless,  the  seed;  may  He  keep  the  beloved  young  Christian  communi- 
cants, the  rising  Church.  The  Good  Shepherd  is  always  with  them,  and 
they  will  be  fed  as  He  pleases." 


CHAPTER    IX. 

DA.LKEITII,   DECEMBER,   1843 — JUNE,    1845. 

THE  town  of  Dalkeith,  which  formed  by  far  the  most  important 
part  of  his  new  parish,  had  then  a  population  of  5,000.  Its  prin- 
cipal streets  are  chiefly  occupied  by  prosperous  shops  and  the  houses 
of  well-to-do  tradesmen;  but  the  "wynds"  behind  these,  and  the  miser- 
able "closes"  which  here  and  there  open  from  them,  consist  mainly  of 
the  dens  of  as  miserable  a  class  as  can  be  found  in  the  purlieus  of 
Edinburgh  or  Glasgow.  There  were  well-farmed  lands  in  the  country 
district  of  the  parish,  and  one  or  two  collieries  with  the  usual  type  of 
mining  village  attached  to  them.  There  wrere  in  the  town  numerous 
churches  belonging  to  various  denominations,  from  the  Episcopal 
chapel  to  the  representatives  of  the  chief  forms  of  Presbyterian  dis- 
sent. But  still  the  charge  which  devolved  upon  the  parish  minister 
was  a  heavy  one.  Two  churches  belonged  to  the  Church  of  Scotland, 
but  only  one  of  these  was  then  open  for  worship ;  and  the  parish,  which 
has  since  been  divided,  was  of  great  extent.  The  old  parish  church, 
now  beautifully  restored,  but  at  that  time  choked  with  galleries,  rising 
tier  above  tier  behind  and  around  the  pulpit,  was  a  curious  example 
of  Scotch  vandalism.  There  wras,  however,  something  of  the  pictur- 
esque in  the  confused  cramming  of  these  "lofts"  into  every  nook  and 
corner,  and  bearing  quaint  shields,  devices,  and  texts  emblazoned  in 
front  of  the  seats  allotted  to  different  guilds.  The  Weavers  reminded 
the  congregation  of  how  life  was  passing  "swiftly  as  the  weaver's 
shuttle,"  and  the  Hammermen  of  how  the  Word  of  God  smote  the 
rocky  heart  in  pieces. 

The  characteristics  of  his  new  charge  were  very  different  from  those 
of  Loudoun.  He  was  aided  and  encouraged  in  his  work  in  Dalkeith 
by  many  in  every  rank  of  life,  and  he  formed  life-long  friendships  with 
families  remarkable  at  once  for  their  culture  and  religious  warmth. 
But  the  working-men  of  Dalkeith  did  not  show  the  keen  intellectual 
interest  in  public  questions  evinced  by  the  weavers  of  Newmilns  and 
Darvel,  nor  were  they  possessed  of  their  intellectual  enthusiasm  and 
love  of  books.  The  prevailing  tone  of  mind  was  solid,  dull,  and  prosaic. 
There  was,  besides,  a  stratum  of  society  low  enough  to  be  appalling. 
The  very  names  of  some  of  the  "Vennels"  in  tne  town, — "Little 
Dublin,"  and  the  like, — indicated  the  character  of  their  inhabitants. 


140  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

In  such  haunts  there  was  to  be  found  an  amount  of  poverty,  ignorance, 
and  squalor,  easy  to  reach  so  long  as  the  question  was  one  of  alms- 
giving, but  which  it  appeared  almost  impossible  to  reform. 

Yet  the  missionary  labour  among  the  lapsed  classes  of  Dalkeith,  on 
which  he  now  entered,  formed  useful  training  for  his  future  work  in 
Glasgow.  In  Dalkeith  he  made  his  first  efforts  in  the  direction  of  that 
congregational  organization,  which  was  subsequently  developed  with 
such  success  in  the  Barony.  He  held  special  week-day  meetings  to 
impart  information  to  his  people  respecting  missionary  enterprise  at 
home  and  abroad,  and  established  associations  for  the  systematic  col- 
lection of  funds  in  support  of  the  work  of  the  Church.  He  also  sought 
to  utilise  the  life  and  zeal  of  the  communicants  by  giving  them  direct 
labour  among  their  poor  and  ignorant  neighbours.  He  personally 
visited  both  rich  and  poor,  and  opened  mission  stations  in  three  differ- 
ent localities,  where  regular  services  were  held  on  Sundays,  and  sewing 
and  evening  classes  were  taught  during  the  week.  He  formed  a  loan- 
fund  to  help  those  who  were  anxious  to  help  themselves,  and  although 
often  disappointed,  yet  experience,  on  the  whole,  confirmed  his  belief 
as  to  the  benefit  of  frankly  trusting  working-men  with  means  for  pro- 
viding for  themselves  better  houses  and  better  clothes.  Drunkenness 
was,  as  usual,  the  root-evil  of  most  of  the  misery,  and  he  strained 
every  effort  to  grapple  with  its  power.  He  did  not  join  any  temper-, 
ance  society,  but  in  order  to  help  those  he  was  trying  to  reform,  he 
entered  with  them,  for  a  considerable  period,  into  a  compact  of  total 
abstinence.  The  results  of  these  experiences  he  afterwards  gave  to  the 
public  in  a  tract  entitled  "A  Plea  for  Temperance." 

The  seat  of  the  noble  family  of  Buccleuch  is  near  the  town  of  Dal- 
keith, and  the  town  in  many  ways  depends  on  the  Palace.  The  gates 
of  the  Park  stand  at  the  end  of  the  Main  Street,  and  lead  into  #a  wide 
demesne,  affording  to  many  families  unlimited  walks  through  forests 
of  oak  and  beech,  stretching  for  several  thousand  acres  along  the  pic- 
turesque banks  of  the  Esk.  Few  noblemen  realise  more  fully  than 
the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  the  responsibilities  attached  to  property,  or  are 
more  anxious  to  discharge  faithfully  the  duties  of  their  high  station. 
His  generosity,  his  chivalrous  honour  and  lofty  tone  of  mind  endear 
him  personally  to  all  Scotchmen.  Yet,  even  with  so  favourable  an 
example,  Norman  Macleod  perceived  the  grave  practical  evils  attending 
that  alienation  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  Scotland  from  the  national 
religion  which  has  become  of  late  years  so  prevalent.  The  causes  that 
have  mainly  produced  this  result  are  easily  discovered.  It  is  natural 
that  among  men  educated  in  England,  and  accustomed  to  the  liturgy 
of  her  venerable  Church,  many  should  find  the  bald  simplicity  and 
extempore  prayers  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  distasteful.  The  forms 
of  worship  which  are  so  dear  to  the  mass  of  the  people,  are  unedifying 
to  them.  Nor  is  it  to  be  wondered  at  if  the  cheap  and  ugly  barns, 
which  the  heritors  of  Scotland  have  frequently  erected  as  parish 
churches,  should  so  offend  the  tastes  of  these  heritors  themselves  as  to 


DALKEITH,  DECEMBER  1M3—JUNE,  1845.        141 

drive  them  away  from  the  ungainly  walls.  The  ecclesiastical  disputes 
too,  which  have  recently  torn  Scotland  asunder,  have  perhaps  repelled 
not  a  few,  and  made  them  seek  the  peaceful  retirement  of  a  communion 
which  has  not  been  identified  for  centuries  with  any  national  move- 
ment. However  this  may  be,  the  great  Earls  and  Barons  who  used, 
by  their  presence,  to  give  an  importance  to  the  deliberations  of  the 
General  Assembly  scarcely  second  to  that  of  the  debates  of  Parliament, 
have  now  few  representatives  on  her  benches,  so  that  those  of  the 
clergy  who  have  struggled  under  many  difficulties  to  increase  the  use- 
fulness, elevate  the  tone,  and  improve  the  services  of  the  Church, 
have  been  left  without  that  support  from  the  higher  classes  to  which 
they  naturally  deem  themselves  entitled.  And  Norman  Macleod  de- 
plored the  division  which  had  grown  up  between  the  nobility  and  the 
people  for  reasons  besides  those  which  affect  the  stability  of  the 
national  Church.  He  saw  that  what  absenteeism  was  doing  in  Ire- 
land  in  subverting  the  loyalty  of  the  masses  was,  in  a  smaller  degree, 
yet  unmistakeably,  being  accomplished  in  Scotland.  "The  aristocracy 
do  not  know  what  they  are  doing,"  he  used  frequently  to  say ;  "  they 
are  making  themselves  the  most  powerful  instruments  for  advancing 
democracy  and  of  ruining  the  influence  of  their  own  order,"  He  felt, 
with  more  than  his  usual  warmth,  that  those  loyal  attachments  which 
spring  up  when  common  sympathies  and  associations  unite  class 
with  class,  and  which  are  so  much  calculated  to  sweeten  the  atmos- 
phere of  social  and  political  life,  are  severely  checked,  when  those  who 
ought  to  be  leaders  in  all  that  affects  the  deeper  life  of  the  people, 
live  as  foreigners  and  aliens,  and  by  refusing  to  worship  with  their 
Presbyterian  countrymen,  throw  discredit,  not  merely  on  the  National 
Church,  but  on  the  national  faith.  Pecuniary  or  political  support, 
however  largely  accorded,  cannot  counterbalance  such  personal  aliena- 
tion. 

From  the  proximity  of  Dalkeith  to  Edinburgh  he  was  able  to  study 
the  working  of  the  committees  entrusted  with  the  control  of  the 
various  agencies  of  the  Church,  and  to  lend  his  aid  in  reconstructing 
her  missions.  The  impressions  produced  by  this  experience  were  not 
encouraging,  for  while  he  entertained '.a  profound  personal  respect  for 
the  good  men  who  guided  the  business  of  the  Church,  he  groaned 
aloud  over  the  want  of  power  and  enthusiasm.  He  soon  learned  that 
there  were  causes  for  the  slowness  of  progress  lying  deeper  than  faults 
of  management,  and  his  lamentations  passed  from  the  committees  in 
Edinburgh  to  the  indifference  of  many  in  the  ministry,  and  of  the 
Church  at  large.  Morning,  noon,  and  night  his  thoughts  turned 
towards  the  revival  of  the  zeal  and  the  developement  of  the  resources 
of  the  Church.  "  I  am  low — low  about  the  old  machine — no  men,  no 
guides,  no  lighthouses,  no  moulding  master-spirit."  Consumed  with 
anxieties,  he  was  glad  when  the  opportunity  was  offered  of  making 
himself  useful  in  Church. business.  The  first  work  assigned  to  him,  as 
well  as  the  last,  was  in  connection  with  the  India  Mission.    He  was  sent 


142  LIFE  OF  NORMAN   MACLEOD. 

in  1844  to  the  north  of  Scotland  along  with  Mr.  Herdman*  to  organize 
associations  for  the  promotion  of  female  education  in  Hindostan. 

To  his  Sister  Jane: — 

"Dalkeith,  Friday,  December  15,  1843. 

"  Well,  it  is  all  over  ! — I  am  now  minister  of  Dalkeith  ;  and  may  God  in 
His  mercy  grant  that  it  may  be  all  for  His  own  glory  !  I  received  a  most 
hearty  welcome,  and  was  rejoiced  to  get  hold  of  not  a  few  hard  homy  fists, 
and  also  the  trembling  hands  of  some  old  women.  There  is  work  for  mo 
here,  I  thought,  and  some  usefulness  yet  by  God's  grace." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

*'  Dalkeith,  December  16,  1843. 

"  I  was  yesterday  inducted  into  mv  new  charsre.  Another  chance — 
another  great  waterfall  in  the  stream  of  time. 

"  I  am  weary  of  controversy  and  strife,  and  I  shall  devote  my  days  and 
life  to  produce  unity  and  peace  among  all  who  love  Christ.  I  pray  that 
God  may  make  me  more  useful  and  holier  now  than  I  have  ever  been  be- 
fore, that  I  may  be  the  means  of  saving  others. 

"  Dec.  3\st,  Sabbath. — The  first  Sabbath  in  my  new  parish  and  last  night 
of  the  year.  In  an  hour,  forty-three  with  its  solemn  changes  will  have 
passed,  and  the  unknown  forty-four  have  begun.  The  grate  before  which  I 
sit  was  in  Campbeltown  ;  I  was  toasted  before  it  the  night  I  was  born.  O 
time  !     O  changes  !     My  head  aches  !" 

"  August  5,  1844. 

"  I  have  been  very  busy  ;  my  catechismf  will  be  out  this  week,  and  will 
be  only  three-halfpence ;  it  is,  I  think,  simple  and  good.  I  am  very 
anxious  to  write  a  tract  to  leave  in  sick-rooms,  both  for  the  use  of  the  sick 
and,  what  I  think  is  much  wanted,  for  the  use  of  those  around  the  sick  who 
may  wish  to  be  of  service  to  them,  but  who  hardly  know  what  to  do.  I 
would  point  out  passages  of  scripture  for  them  to  read,  and  give  short  com- 
ments upon  these  passages  and  a  few  simple  prayers." 

To  his  Sister  Jane  :  — 

"  Inverness,  August,  1844. 

"  I  feel  that  in  all  the  congregations  I  have  addressed,  and  in  all  the 
meetings,  there  is  little — very  little  real  life  !  A  great  amount  of  coldness  ; 
at  least,  I  think  so.  To  form  Missionary  Associations  is  like  giving  good 
spectacles  to  those  whose  eyes  are  nearly  out ;  they  will  not  cure  the 
disease.  The  'eye-salve'  must  first  be  applied  before  much  good  can  be 
done  !  hence,  what  we  need  is  preaching  the  gospel.  This  is  an  apparent 
truism  ;  but  alas  !  truisms  are  what  people  attend  to  least.  On  Tuesday  I 
went  to  Elgin.  The  weather  this  week  was  magnificent ;  the  air  clear  and 
bracing ;  the  Moray  Firth  '  gleaming  like  a  silver  shield  ;'  the  gi-eat  line  of 
precipice  of  old  red  sandstone,  which  forms  a  rocky  wall  to  Caithness,  all 

•Now  the  Rev.  Dr.  Herdman,  of  Melrose,  who  was,  in  1872,  appointed  his  succes- 
sor in  the  management  of  the  Indian  mission. 

+  A  Catechism  tor  Churchmen,  on  the  Doctrine  of  the  Headship  of  Christ,  which  he 
published  alter  the  "Cracks  about  the  Kirk." 


DALKEITH,  DECEMBER,  1UZ—JUNE,  1845.       143 

clear  and  well-defined.  Held  our  meeting  at  one  ;  about  fifty  ladies  pre- 
sent, and  several  of  the  clergy.  Formed  the  Association.  Sermon  at  night 
tolerably  well  attended.  Saw  Patrick  Duff's  fossils  from  the  old  red; 
beautiful,  very  beautiful.  Fish  with  the  scales  glittering  as  if  the  fish  were 
caught  yesterday. 

"  Next  day  found  the  coach  full.  A  fair  in  Forres.  Got  a  lift  in  a 
Free  Churchman's  gig.  Had  much  talk  with  him,  and  could  not  blame  the 
man ;  but  blamed  the  clergy,  old  and  new.  Reached  Nairn  at  twelve. 
John  Mackintosh  came  down  to  the  inn.  He  is  mad  about  Germany  and 
Germans  ;  he  even  smoked.  Dined  at  Gcddes,  after  forming  an  Associa- 
tion. Thursday  was  a  glorious  day.  John  and  I  drove  off  by  the  coach  to 
Inverness.  Had  a  good  meeting.  Our  mission  is  now  nearly  over.  I  am 
very  thankful  I  have  come  ;  thankful  for  the  encouragement  given  by  the 
clergy  and  the  people,  and  thankful  for  having  been  enabled  to  preach  the 
truth." 

To  John  Mackintosh  : — 

"Dalkeith,   October,  1844. 

' '  Geddes  is  now  one  of  the  bright  points  in  the  world  which  lies  in  dark- 
ness, to  which  my  spirit  will  often  turn  for  light ;  but  not  your  intellectual 
light,  though  of  that  there  is  abundance,  but  heart-light.  I  am  every  day 
hating  intellect  more  and  more.     It  is  the  mere  gleaming  of  a  glacier — 

clear,  cold,  chilly,  though  magnificent ;  and  then '  Come,  no  more  of 

this,  an'  thou  lovest  me,  Hal.'  I  detest  essay  letters ;  but  I  love  a  smoke, 
aud  I  love  thee,  dear  John,  and  thy  house,  and  even  Een  Wyvis,  and  all  the 
happy  group  that  showed  it  to  me  ;  and  I  love  all  that  love  me  down  to  my 
devoted' cat ;  and  when  any  do  not  love  me,  I  pity  them  for  their  wanting  so 
large  an  object  for  their  affections  ;  and  so  I  wish,  above  all  things,  to  bear 
about  with  me  a  heart  which  I  would  not  have  shut  by  sin  or  by  vanity,  and 
always  open,  dear  John,  to  thee.  Well,  I  had  such  a  day  and  night  with 
Shairp  !  I  went  to  Houstoun.  "We  talked — and  you  know  my  powers  in 
that  sort  of  wordy  drizzle — we  talked  the  moon  down.  We  talked  through 
the  garden,  and  along  the  road,  and  up  the  avenue,  and  up  the  stair,  and  in 
the  drawing-room,  and  during  music,  and  during  dinner,  and  during  night, 
and,  1  believe,  during  sleep  ;  certainly  during  all  next  morning,  and  even 
when  one  hundred  yards  asunder,  he  being  on  the  canal  bank,  and  I  in  the 
canal  boat.  What  a  dear,  noble  soul  Shairp  is  !  I  do  love  him.  Would  that 
our  Church  had  a  few  like  him.  We  want  broad-minded,  meditative  men. 
We  want  guides,  we  want  reality,  we  want  souls  who  will  do  and  act  before 
God  ;  who  would  have  that  disposition  in  building  up  the  spiritual  Church, 
which  the  reverential  Middle  Age  masons  had  when  elaborately  carving 
some  graven  imagery  or  quaint  device,  unseen  by  man's  eye,  on  the  fretted 
roof  of  a  cathedral — they  worked  on  God's  house,  and  before  God  !" 

To  the  Same  : — 

"Dalkeith,  October,  1844,  half -past  nine  a.m. 

"  '  There  is  poetry  in  everything.'  True,  quite  true,  Emerson — thou 
true  man,  poet  of  the  backwoods !  But  there  is  not  poetry  in  a  fishwife, 
surely  1  Surely  there  is  ;  lots  of  it.  Her  creel  has  more  than  all  Dugald 
Moore's  tomes.     Why  there  was  one — I  mean  a  fishwife — this  moment  in 


144  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD 

the  lobby.  She  has  a  hooked  nose.  It  seems  to  be  the  type,  nay  the  an, 
cestor,  of  a  cod-hook.  Her  mouth  was  a  skate  or  turbot  humanised  ;  her 
teeth,  selected  from  the  finest  oyster  peaid ;  her  eyes,  whelks  with  the  bon- 
nets on — bait  for  odd  fish  on  sea  or  land ;  her  hands  and  fingers  in  redness 
and  toughness  rivalled  the  crab,  barring  him  of  the  Zodiac.  Yet  she  was 
all  poetry.  I  had  been  fagging,  reading, and  writing  since  6  A.M.  (on  hon- 
our !) — had  dived  into  Owen,  was  drowned  in  Edwards,  and  wrecked  on 
Newman — my  brain  was  wearied,  when  suddenly  I  heard  the  sound  of 
*  Flukes!'  followed  by  '  Had — dies!'  (a  name  to  which  Haidee  was  as  prose). 
1  descended  and  gazed  into  the  mysterious  creel,  and  then  came  a  gush  of 
sunlight  upon  my  spirit — visions  of  sunny  mornings  with  winding  shores, 
and  clean,  sandy,  pearly  beaches,  and  rippling  waves  glancing  and  glittering 
over  white  shells  and  polished  stones,  and  breezy  headlands ;  and  fishing- 
boats  moving  like  shadows  onward  from  the  great  deep ;  and  lobsters,  and 
crabs,  and  spoutfish,  and  oysters,  crawling,  and  chirping,  and  spouting  out 
sea  water,  the  old  '  ocean  gleaming  like  a  silver  shield.'  The  fishwife  was  a 
Claude  Lorraine  ;  her  presence  painted  what  did  my  soul  good,  and  as  her 
reward  I  gave  her  what  I'll  wager  never  during  her  life  had  been  given  her 
before — all  that  she  asked  for  her  fish !  And  why,  you  ask,  have  I  sat 
down  to  write  to  you,  beloved  John,  all  this — to  spend  a  sheet  of  paper,  to 
pay  one  penny,  to  abuse  ten  tickings  of  my  watch  to  write  myself,  like 
Dogberry,  an  ass  ]  Why  1  '  Nature,'  quoth  d'Alembert,  '  puts  questions 
which  Nature  cannot  answer.'  And  shall  I  beat  Nature,  and  be  able  to 
answer  questions  put  to  me  by  John — Nature's  own  child  1  Be  silent,  and 
let  neither  of  us  shame  our  parent.  Modesty  forbids  me  to  attempt  any 
solution  of  thy  question,  dear  John.     Now  for  work.     My  pipe  is  out !  " 

To  his  Sister  Jane  :— 

"Dalkeith,  1844. 

"  I  have  been  horribly  busy.  As  for  next  week,  I  cannot  see  my  way 
to  the  end  of  it.  I  am  to  be  at  the  top  of  my  speed,  and  no  mistake.  I 
have  got  a  beautiful  third  preaching-house  in  a  close,  so  that  I  have  the 
three  best  points  in  the  town  occupied,  and  I  will  clear  the  way  for  a 
missionary.  I  am  going  to  develope  one  of  my  theories  regarding  the  best 
method  of  teaching  the  lower  orders,  by  getting  pictures  of  the  life  of  Christ, 
the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  Ten  Commandments  printed  in  large  type,  and 
hung  up  on  the  walls.  I  have  more  faith  in  the  senses  than  most  Presby- 
terians. 

"  Need  I  assure  E of  the  impossibility  of  my  saying  anything  like 

what  is  reported  of  me  !  No — I  said  the  fightings  of  '  all  sects  and  parties 
were  disgusting  infidels  even,'  and  so  prejudicing  Christianity  in  their 
minds. 

"  I  am  very  jolly  because  very  busy.  Breakfast  on  bread-and-milk  every 
morning  at  eight  j  dine  at  two  jollily." 

Letter  to  the  late  Sir  John  Campbell,  of  Kildalloig,  on  the  birth  of  a  son  and  heir. 

"  Officer  of  the  Watch.     The  commodore  is  signalling,  sir. 

"  Captain.     What  has  she  got  up  1 

"  Officer.     No.  1,  sir.     '  An  heir  apparent  is  born.' 


DALKEITH,  DECEMBER,  1843— JUNE,  1845.       145 

"Captain.      Olorious  news  !     All   hands  on  deck.      Lend   on  your  flags. 
Stand  by  your  halyards.     Load  your  guns  !     All  ready  fore  and  aft  1 

"All  ready,  sir. 

"  Hoist  and  fire  away  ! 

"  Three  cheers  !  !  ! 

*'■  Load.     Fire  !     Three  cheers  !  !  ! 

*'•  Load  again.     Fire  ! 

"  Three  tremendous  cheers  !  !  ! 

<  For  the  Laird  of  KiMalloig  ! 

"  It  is  impossible  to  do  justice  to  the  sensation  which  was  created  in 
every  part  of  the  ship.  The  vessel  herself  made  one  of  her  best  bows,  and 
for  once  ceased  to  look  stern.  The  sails,  though  suffering  much  from  the 
bight  of  a  rope,  for  which  the  doctor  had  stuck  on  them  a  number  of  leeches 
and  recommended  wet  sheets,  nevertheless  '  looked  swell'  and  much  pleased 
as  the  top  gallants  said  sweet  things  into  their  lee  earing.  The  royals 
though  rather  high  and  complaining  of  the  truck  system,  waved  their  caps. 
The  chain-cable  sung  '  Old  King  Coil,'  while  the  best-bower  cried  encore  ! 
(anchor).  The  capstan  began  to  make  love  to  the  ivindlass,  who  was  thought 
to  be  a  great  catch,  but  who  preferred  the  caboose  on  account  of  his  coppers. 
The  boatswain  took  the  ship  round  the  waist,  but  got  it  pitched  into  him 
for  his  impertinence.  He  said  it  was  all  friendship.  The  binnacle  was 
out  of  his  wits  with  joy — quite  non-compass.  The  wheel  never  spoke  ;  he 
had  more  conning  than  any  in  the  ship,  and  was  afraid  of  being  put  down, 
or  getting  hard  up.  The  cuddy  gave  a  fearful  bray.  The  cat-ofnine-tails 
gave  a  mew  which  was  heard  a  mile  off,  and  scampered  off  to  the  best-bower, 
which  was  embracing  the  cat-head  and  sharing  its  stock  with  it.  The  life- 
buoy roused  up  the  dead  lights,  who  rushed  and  wakened  the  dead  eyes, 
who  began  to  weep  tears  of  joy.  The  shrouds  changed  into  wedding  gar- 
ments. The  two  davits  said  they  would,  out  of  compliment  to  the  laird, 
call  themselves  after  the  two  Jo/ms.  The  companion  got  so  in  love  with 
marriage  that  he  swore  he  would  not  be  cheated  by  a  mere  name,  but  get 
another  companion  as  soon  as  possible.  The  long-boat  sighed  for  a  punt, 
and  began  to  pay  his  addi'esses  to  the  cutter.  The  launch  got  so  jealous 
that  he  kicked  the  bucket ;  while  the  swab  declared  he  would  turn  cleanly, 
and  try  and  earn  a  good  character  so  as  to  get  spliced  to  a  holy-stone.  The 
guns  offered  their  services  to  all  hands,  and  promised  that  they  would  marry 
all  and  sundry  can(n)onically,  and  each  give  a  ball  on  the  occasion.  The 
block-heads  alone  were  confused,  but  even  they  said  they  would  contribute 
their  sheaves.  The  very  man-holes  spoke  lovingly  of  the  fair  sex  ;  and  the 
false  keel  for  once  spoke  truth,  saying  he  never  saw  such  fun,  but  that  he 
would  be  ut  the  bottom  of  all  this  mystery. 

'"'  What  the  effects  of  all  this  might  have  been  no  one  can  tell  if  all  the 
above  marriages  had  taken  place ;  but  just  as  all  parties  were  ready  for 
being  spliced  (the  marling -spikes  acting  as  curates),  it  was  found  every  gun 
was  deep  in  port.  But  in  the  meantime  the  captain  summoned  all  on  deck 
and  gave  the  following  short  but  neat  speech  : — 

"  '  My  men, — Fill  your  glasses  !  Drink  a  bumper  to  the  health  of  the 
young  Laird  of  Kildalloig.  May  he  swim  for  many  a  long  year  over  the 
stormy  ocean  on  which  he  has  been  launched.  May  neither  his  provisions 
rior  cloth  ever  fail  him.      May  he  ever  be  steered  by  the  helm  of  conscience, 

10 


146  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

and  go  by  the  chart  of  duty,  and  the  compass  of  truth ;  and  may  every 
breeze  that  blows  and  every  sea  that  dashes  cany  him  nearer  a  good 
haven  !' 

«  Hurrah  |" 

To  his  Mother  : — > 

"Dalkeith,  Sunday,  1845. 

"  After  working  very  hard  during  the  week,  1  rose  to-day  at  half-past  six, 
studied  till  nine,  taught  my  school  till  eleven,  preached  forenoon  and  aftei-- 
noon  long  sermons,  had  baptisms,  slept  for  an  hour,  preached  for  an  hour  to 
fifty  outcasts  in  the  wynd,  was  my  own  precentor  and  clerk,  and  here  I  am 
as  fresh  as  a  lark — a  pulse  going  like  a  chronometer,  and  a  head  calm,  and 
clear  and  cool  as  a  mountain  spring.  But  my  chief  reason  for  writing  you 
to-night  is  to  tell  you  a  story  which  has  amused  me. 

"  On  coming  home  this  evening  I  saw  a  number  of  boys  following  and 
speaking  to,  and  apparently  teasing,  a  little  boy  who,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets  and  all  in  rags,  was  creeping  along  close  by  the  wall.  He  seemed 
like  a  tame  caged  bird  which  had  got  loose  and  was  pecked  at  and  tormented 
by  wild  birds.  His  cut  was  something  like  this.  I  asked  the  boys  who  he 
was.  '  Eh  !  he's  a  wee  boy  gaun'  about  begging,  wi'out  faither  or  mither  !' 
He  did  seem  very  wee,  poor  child — a  pretty  boy,  only  nine  years  old.  I 
found  him  near  my  gate  and  took  him  in.  I  asked  him  to  tell  me  the 
truth.  He  said  his  father  was  alive — a  John  Swan,  in  Kirkalcly  ;  that  his 
'  ain  mither '  was  dead ;  that  he  had  a  stepmother  ;  that  '  a  month  and  a 
week  ago '  he  left  them,  for  they  used  to  send  him  to  beg,  to  drink  the 
money  he  got,  and  to  thrash  him  if  he  brought  none  in ;  and  that  they  sent 
him  out  one  evening  and  he  left  them.  He  got  threepence  from  a  gentle- 
man and  crossed  in  the  steamboat  to  Leith.  He  had  heard  that  he  was 
born  in  Kirkhill  near  this,  '  and  that  his  mither  lived  there  wi'  him  when 
he  was  a  bairn.'  He  reached  a  stable,  and  there  he  has  been  ever  since, 
begging  round  the  district.  Poor  infant  !  Jessie,  my  servant,  once  a  ser- 
vant in  some  charitable  institution,  was  most  minute  in  her  questionings 
about  Kirkaldy  ;  but  his  answers  were  all  correct  and  very  innocent.  Well, 
a  few  minutes  after,  Jessie  came  in.  '  What,'  said  I,  '  are  you  doing  with 
the  boy  V  '  Oo,  I  gied  him  his  supper,  puir  thing,  and  am  making  a  shake- 
down for  him ;  and,  ye  see,  I  saw  he  was  verra  dirty,  and  I  pit  him  in  a 
tub  o'  water,  and  he's  stannin  in't  ee'  noo  till  I  gang  ben.  That's  the  way 
we  used  to  do  in  the  Institution.  Eh  !  if  ye  saw  the  boys  frae  the  Hielans 
that  used  tae  come  there  !  Keep  me  !  I  couldna  eat  for  a  week  after  cleannin 
them  ;  and  wee  Swan  is  just  as  bad.  I  wadna  tell  ye  hoo  dirty  he  is,  puir 
bairn  !  I  couldna  thole  tae  pit  him  tae  his  bit  bed  yon  way.  I  cast  a'  his 
duds  outside  the  door,  and  sent  Mary  Ann  straight  up  tae  the  factor's  for  a 

sack  for  him  ;  for  ye  see  whan  we  washed  them  in  the  Institution '  '  Be 

off,'  said  I,  '  and  don't  keep  the  poor  fellow  in  the  tub  longer.'  I  went  in, 
a  few  minutes  ago,  and  there  I  found  him,  or  rather  saw  something  like  a 
ghost  amongst  mist,  Jessie  scrubbing  at  him,  and  seeming  to  enjoy  the  work 
with  all  her  heart.  '  How  do  you  like  it  ¥  '  Fine,  fine  !'  But  just  as  I 
wrote  the  above  word,  the  door  was  opened,  and  in  marches  my  poor  boy, 
paraded  in  by  Jessie — a  beautiful  boy,  clean  as  a  bead,  but  with  nothing 
on  but  a  large  beautiful  clean  shirt,  his  hair  combed  and  divided;  and 


DALKEITH,  DECEMBER,  1K4')— JUNE,  1845.        147 

Jessie  gazing  on  him  with  admiration,  Mary  Ann  in  the  background.  The 
pooi-  boy  hardly  opened  his  lips,  lie  looked  round  him  in  bewilderment. 
'There  lie  is,'  said  Jessie  ;  '  I  am  sure  ye're  in  anither  warld  the  night,  my 
lad.  Whan  wer  ye  clean  afore  V  '  Three  months  syne.'  '  War  ye  ever  as 
clean  afore  V  'No.'  '  What  will  ye  do  noo  V  '  I  dinna  ken.'  '  Will  ye 
gang  awa  and  beg  the  night  V  'If  ye  like.'  '  No,'  said  I,  'be  off  to  your 
bed  and  sleep.'  Pooi*  child,  if  his  mother  is  in  heaven  she  will  be  pleased! 
"  If  charity  covers  a  multitude  of  sins,  Jessie  Wishart  will  get  her  re- 
ward." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"January,  1845. — Of  nothing  do  we  stand  more  in  need  in  tin's  poor 
country  at  this  moment  than  of  a  man  who  knows  and  loves  the  truth,  and 
who  would  have  the  courage  to  speak  out  with  a  voice  which  would  com- 
mand a  hearing.  I  think  we  are  in  a  forced,  cramped,  fettered,  unnatural 
state.  It  is  notorious  to  every  honest  man,  who  will  open  but  a  corner  of 
even  one  eye,  that  we  have  received  a  terrible  shock  by  the  Secession.  It 
is  very  possible  that  had  there  been  no  Secession,  the  Establishment  might 
have  been  in  the  end  more  irrevocably  shattered,  as  an  Establishment,  by 
the  High  Church  forces  within,  than  she  is  or  can  be  by  these  same  forces 
acting  on  her  from  without.  This  is  a  '  may  be '  only  '  but  it  is  '  no  may 
be,'  but  a  most  serious  fact,  that  the  withdrawal  of  these  men  has  left  us 
fearfully  weak.     In  what  respects  1 

"  1.  There  are  many  parishes  left  with  mere  skeleton  congregations.  In 
some  parts  of  Sutherland  and  Ross-shire,  the  skeleton  has  dwindled  down 
to  a  bone — a  mere  fossil. 

"  2.  The  best  ministers,  and  the  best  portion  of  our  people  have  gone. 
Lots  of  humbugs,  I  know,  are  among  them  ;  but,  as  a  general  fact,  this  is. 
true. 

"  3.  The  '  moderate  '  congregations  will  soon  make  '  moderate  '  ministers. 
The  tone  will  insensibly  be  lowered. 

"  4.  We  have  many  raw  recruits  ;  and  they  are  thinking  more  of  the 
drawing-room  paper  and  the  fiars*  prices  than  of  the  Church. 

"  5.  We  have  no  heads  to  direct  us  ;  not  one  commanding  mind,  not 
one  trumpet  voice  to  speak  to  men's  inner  being  and  compel  them  to  hear. 
There  are,  I  doubt  not,  many  who  would  do  right  if  they  knew  what  was 
right  to  do.  Like  some  regiments  during  the  war,  we  have  gone  into  battle 
with  our  full  complement  of  men,  and  the  slaughter  has  been  so  great  that 
ensigns  have  come  out  majors  and  field-officers,  with  rank  and  uniform,  but 
without  talent  or  experience. 

"  But  the  Free  Church  is  as  crammed  with  error  as  we  are,  though  of  a 
different  and  less  stupid  kind.  Vanity,  pride,  and  haughtiness,  that  would 
serve  Mazarin  or  Richelieu,  clothed  in  Quaker  garb ;  Church  ambition  and 
zeal  and  self-sacrifice  that  compete  with  Loyola;  and  in  the  Highlands 
specimens  of  fanaticism  which  Maynooth  can  alone  equal.  This  is  not  so 
characteristic  of  the  people  as  of  the  clergy,  although  it  is  met  with  among 
deacons,  and  the  clever  tailors  and  shoemakers  of  the  party,  and  some  of 
the  Jenny  Geddes  type ;  but  many  of  the  people  follow  them  because  they 

*The  average  annual  value  of  grain  by  which  the  stipends  of  parish  ministers  are 
determined. 


148  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

somehow  think  it  safer,  while  they  follow  their  own  kind  hearts  also,  and 
love  good  men  and  good  ministers  of  all  denominations. 

"  I  fear  much  that  this  great  excitement,  without  Christian  principle, 
will  produce  reaction  with  sin  ;  and  that  our  nation  will  get  more  wicked. 
Alas  !  this  is  drawing  rapidly  on  the  Highlands.  The  Establishment  can- 
not save  that  poor  country,  for  the  mass  of  the  clergy  are  water-buckets. 
The  Free  Church  cannot  save  it,  for  they  are  firebrands. 

"  What  should  we  do  1 

"  Not  lean  on  the  aristocracy.  They  have  but  one  eye,  and  it  looks  at 
one  object — the  landed  interest.  If  they,  as  a  body,  support  the  Establish- 
ment, it  is  on  much  the  same  principle  that  they  support  guano — because  it 
helps  to  make  men  pay  their  rents. 

"  Not  on  Government.  Peel  is  a  trimmer,  and  would  for  a  time  '  save 
the  country.' 

li  Not  on  numbers.  Holiness  is  power.  The  poorest  man  who  is  great 
in  prayer  is,  perhaps,  a  greater  man  in  affecting  the  destinies  of  the 
world  than  the  Emperor  of  Russia.     We  need  quality,  not  quantity  ! 

"  On  missions?  Good!  So  are  spectacles,  if  we  have  eyes;  so  are  steam- 
engines,  if  they  have  steam. 

"  We  require  an  Inner  Work  in  the  hearts  of  the  clergy  and  the  people. 
We  need  life,  and  not  mere  action ;  the  life  of  life,  and  not  life  from  galvan- 
ism. If  we  were  right  in  our  souls,  out  of  this  root  would  spring  the  tree 
and  fruit,  out  of  this  fountain  would  well  out  the  living  water.  But  until 
we  attend  to  this,  mere  outward  action  will  but  blind  and  deceive. 

"  The  next  two  years  will  be  years  of  severe  trial  to  the  Church. 

"  We  want  earnest  men,  truth-loving  and  truth-speaking  men,  and  so 
'  having  authority,  and  not  as  the  scribes.'  We  want  a  talented,  pious 
young  Scotland  party.  We  must  give  up  the  Church  of  the  past,  and  have 
as  our  motto  the  Church  of  the  future. 

"  The  soldering  between  the  Free  Church  and  Dissenters  has  all  along 
been  false — based  on  love  of  popularity  and  self-interest,  and  hatred  to  the 
Establishment. 

"February  7th. — The  spirit  of  the  ecclesiastical  movement  will  never  be 
known  ;  it  is  a  noxious  gas,  which,  however,  cannot  be  fixed  in  any  material 
substance  that  will  convey  it  to  posterity.  If  it  could  be  confined  like 
chlorine,  and  conveyed  like  a  bleaching  powder  to  our  grandchildren,  it 
would  bleach  their  faces  white.  You  can  always  tell  what  a  man  says  or 
does  ;  but  can  you  tell  in  a  history  his  lowering  look,  his  fidgetty  expression, 
his  sneaky  remarks,  his  infinite  littleness  and  fierceness  and  fanaticism 
which  have  made  up  three-fourths  of  the  man,  which  have  given  a  complexion 
to  his  whole  character,  which  have  annoyed  a  whole  neighbourhood  1  These 
things  evaporate  in  a  generation,  and  what  posterity  gets  has  been  pickled 
and  preserved  on  purpose  for  it — a  made-up  dish,  sj^iced  and  peppered  and 
tasted  by  the  knowing  hands,  tried  by  cooking  committees,  and  duly  manu- 
factured for  the  next  age,  and  directed  to  be  opened  by  those  only  who  are 
ready  to  praise  the  dish  and  to  vow  that  it  is  just  the  kind  of  thing  which 
was  common  at  every  table  in  Scotland  !  And  so,  when  any  Fraser  Tytler 
or  Walter  Scott,  or  any  other  historian,  picks  up  the  debris  of  dishes,  very 
different,  but  once  found,  perhaps,  in  every  house — '  Oh  !  that  was  a  chance 
meal,  an  unfortunate  repast,  a  mere  hurried  lunch  ;  not  at  all  characteristic. 


DALKEITH,  DECEMBER,  1S43—  JUNE,  1845.        149 

Open  our  forefathers'  preserve  pots.  They  are  in  our  cupboard.  These 
are  the  specimens  of  the  true  viands.'  'O  history,  what  a  humbug  art 
thou  !'  Once  we  leave  the  Bible,  history  is  but  bubbles  on  the  stream,  or 
mountains  in  mist." 

To  Robert  Scott  Moncmeff,  Esq:— 

"March  11,  1845. 

"The  Duke  has  offered  £70  a  year  to  pay  a  missionary.  This  is  kind 
and  generous,  like  himself.  But  I  have  no  missionary ;  and,  perhaps,  at 
present,  one  is  not  much  needed,  and  if  he  were,  I  cannot  get  a  man  who 
is  worth  the  money.  In  these  circumstances,  the  £70  is  of  no  use  to  the 
parish  ;  but  my  conviction  is.  that  the  half  of  this  sum  might  be  judiciously 
used  in  another  way.  I  shall  explain  what  I  mean.  You  know  that  the 
grand  obstacle  in  the  way  of  filling  our  church  with  the  poorer  classes  is  the 
want  of  clothes.  This  is  the  excuse  they  make.  In  a  great  many  cases  it 
is  the  true  cause  of  their  neglect  of  ordinances.  I  know  well,  that  of  the 
hundreds  here,  who  attend  no  place  of  worship  in  the  world,  a  great  per 
centage  would,  in  their  present  state  of  depravity,  absent  themselves  from 
public  worship  if  they  had  all  the  clothes  that  their  bodies  could  carry. 
There  are  too  many  drunken  men  and  women  (the  worst  of  the  two)  who 
would  pawn  their  clothes,  and,  if  they  could,  would  pawn  themselves,  for 
drink.  But,  I  also  know  very  many  who  I  honestly  believe  would  never  be 
absent  one  day  from  the  house  of  God,  if  they  had  the  means  of  appearing 
there  decently  clad.  There  are  parents  who,  during  sickness,  have  pawned 
their  clothes  for  fo<5d  to  give  their  children  ;  and  who,  living  from  hand  to 
mouth,  have  never  been  able  to  recover  them.  There  are  others  who  are 
industrious — women  especially — who  cannot  from  their  small  wages  earn 
them.  Such  people  attend  my  mission  stations  regularly.  They  have 
implored  me  to  enable  them  to  appear  in  church.  One  asks  a  pair  of  shoes, 
another  a  pair  of  trousers,  another  a  shawl,  another  a  gown  ;  and  they  have 
done  so  with  tears.  I  have  twenty  or  thirty  persons  in  these  circumstances 
on  my  list.  Now,  I  have  assisted  some  of  these  out  of  my  own  pocket,  and 
these  persons  are  regularly  in  church.  Why  not  employ  (until  we  get  a 
missionary)  a  part  of  this  fund  in  supplying  the  wants  of  the  best  of  such 
people  1  You,  perhaps,  may  think  that  I  may  be  deceived  ;  possibly,  I  may. 
But  as  I  have  been  for  some  years  constantly  amongst  such  people,  I  am  not 
easily  deceived.  And  may  we  not  be  deceived  with  a  missionary,  and  lose 
the  £70  in  a  lump  ]  There  is  a  chance  of  being  deceived  in  some  cases,  and 
of  losing  a  pound  here  and  one-and-sixpence  there  ;  but  on  the  other  hand 
there  is  a  greater  chance  of  reclaiming  people  to  habits  of  order  and  decency, 
of  bringing  into  godly  habits  parents  who  never  have  been  in  church  since 
they  were  children,  who  have  never  been  at  the  sacrament,  and  whose 
children  are  unbaptized.  Is  it  not  worth  while  to  make  the  trial  ]  Unless 
something  like  this  is  done,  my  visiting  of  the  parish  is  almost  mere  sham. 
I  pass  through  the  people  like  a  stick  through  water.  They  receive  me 
kindly,  and  they  are  just  as  they  were  when  my  back  is  turned.  You  ask 
me,  then,  what  I  want  1  I'll  tell  you  :  I  want  a  sum  of  money  in  my  own 
hand  to  try  the  experiment  for  one  year.  The  Duke  gives  me  £70  for  the 
good  of  the  parish  ;  if  he  gets  the  good,  he  will  not  care,  I  am  sure,  how  the 
money  is  expended.      Let  me  only  have  the  hah'.    I  will  give  you  an  account 


150  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

of  how  I  spend  it.  I  will  show  yon  the  results,  and  I  am  willing  to  stake 
niy  stipend  that  a  dozen  missionaries,  trudging  about  with  their  gaiters  and 
umbrellas,  and  preaching  long,  dry  sermons,  won't  do  so  much  good  at  first 
as  =£35  spent  in  my  way." 

To  his  Mother  : — 

"  Dalkeith,  March,  1845. 

"  Everything  goes  on  smoothly.  I  have,  ranged  before  me,  a  series  of 
really  beautiful  coloured  lithographs  for  my  mission  station.  We  are  taught 
by  the  eye,  as  well  as  by  the  ear.  The  more  ignorant  we  are,  the  less  able 
are  we  to  form  ideas.  Children  in  years  and  children  in  knowledge  are 
the  better  of  pictures ;  so  think  the  Papists,  who  know  human  nature 
well.  But  they  err,  not  in  dealing  with  people  who  are  children  as  children 
should  be  dealt  with,  but  in  keeping  them  children. 

"  There  is  a  max-ked  change  in  the  town,  whatever  the  reason  may  be. 
The  police  sergeant  told  me  yesterday  that  the  change  during  the  last  three 
months  is  incredible.  Instead  of  ten  a  week  in  the  lock-up  for  drunken- 
ness, he  has  not  had  one  case  for  a  month ;  while  the  streets,  formerly 
infested  with  low  characters,  are  now  as  quiet  as  possible.  This  is  gratify- 
ing, and  should  make  us  thank  God  and  take  courage. 

"  My  geological  lectures  are  over,  I  gave  the  twelfth  last  night ;  it  was 
on  the  wisdom  of  God  as  displayed  in  the  structure  of  the  world,  and  I  do 
think  it  must  have  been  interesting  even  to  those  who  knew  nothing  of  the 
subject." 

To  his  Sister  Jane  : — 

"  Dalkeith,  1844. 

"  I  had  a  meeting  on  Monday  last  to  petition  against  Maynooth ;  I  inti- 
mated it  from  my  pulpit.  The  meeting  was  good.  I  made  a  long  speech  ; 
was  all  alone.  Although  I  believe  I  am  the  first,  and,  as  far  as  I  know, 
mine  is  the  only  parish  belonging  to  our  Church  that  has  petitioned,  I  am 
so  thankful  I  followed  my  own  sense  and  did  it.  The  fact  is,  we  have 
passed  through  a  revolution,  the  most  serious  by  far  in  our  time.  Sir  Robert 
has  sapped  the  basis  of  Establishments  ;  he  has  capsized  the  principles  of 
his  party ;  he  has  alienated  from  him  the  confidence  of  the  country,  and 
inflicted  a  sore  blow  upon  Protestantism.  I  declare  solemnly  I  would  leave 
my  Manse  and  glebe  to-morrow,  if  I  could  rescind  that  terrible  vote  for 
Maynooth.  I  cannot  find  words  to  express  my  deep  conviction  of  the  in- 
fatuation of  the  step.  And  all  statesmen  for  it !  Not  one  man  to  form  a 
Protestant  party  ! — not  one  !     God  have  mercy  on  the  country  !"  * 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  March  27th. — The  connection  between  a  right  physical  and  right  intel- 
lectual and  moral  state  is  a  question  of  vast  importance  in  connection  with 
the  supremacy  and  advancement  of  the  Christian  Church,  i.e.,  the  good  and 
happiness  of  man.  If  it  be  true  that  through  bad  feeding,  clothing,  hard 
work,  &c,  there  is  a  retrogression  of  the  species,  or  families  of  the  species, 
and  vice  versa,  how  important  that  a  country,   especially  a  Church,  should 

*  Compare  with  these  reflections  the  opinions  expressed  in  Chapter  XIII.,  May, 


DALKEITH,  DECEMBER,  1843— JUNE,  1845.         151 

attend  to  the  physical  wants  of  the  people!  I  have  heard  it  alleged  that 
criminals,  generally  speaking,  are  an  inferior  race  physically.  Query, 
how  much  has  Christianity  advanced  the  human  race  by  stimulating  that 
charity  that  '  does  good  unto  all  men,  especially  unto  those  who  are  of  the 
household  of  faith  V  The  defect  of  most  systems  for  benefitting  man  has 
arisen  not  so  much  from  the  presence  of  a  bad  element,  as  the  absence  of  a 
good — from  a  minus,  not  a  plus — from  forgetting  that  man  is  an  intellectual, 
social,  moral,  active,  and  sentient  being,  and  that  his  well-being  is  advanced 
just  in  proportion  as  all  these  different  parts  of  his  nature  are  gratified. 
Better  drainage,  ventilation,  poor  laws,  deal  with  his  sentient  part ;  and  so 
far  good.  Reading-rooms,  lectures,  mechanics'  institutes,  cheap  literature, 
deal  with  his  intellectual,  and  are  good,  too.  Amusements,  coffee-houses, 
and  some  of  the  above,  deal  with  his  social,  and  are  likewise  good.  The 
axiom,  '  give  the  people  always  something  to  do,'  deals  with  his  active 
powers;  the  gospel  and  all  the  means  of  grace,  with  his  moral  nature;  and 
as  this  is  the  mainspring  of  all  he  thinks  and  does,  it  is  the  most  important 
of  all ;  but  it  alone,  as  a  system  of  truth  separated  from  a  system  of  action, 
which  includes  all  reform,  will  not  do.  To  preach  a  sermon,  and  refuse 
meat  to  the  starving  hearers,  is  mockery ;  and  so  says  St.  James.  To  this 
I  add,  the  necessity  of  a  living,  wise  and  Christian  agency  coming  constantly 
into  contact  with  men. 

"  It  is  a  glorious  night !  '  The  moon  doth  with  delight  look  round  her, 
and  the  heavens  are  bare.'  How  wonderful  is  the  majestic  calm  of  nature  ! 
how  awing  to  the  spirit  this  steadfast  and  unhalting  march  of  God's  plan  in 
nature  and  providence  !  Man's  wrath  stays  it  not ;  many  storms  disturb  it 
not.  The  stars  twinkle  as  they  did  on  Eve  or  on  the  waters  of  the  Deluge. 
How  com  o  ting  to  think  of  the  Mighty  Hand  which  is  guiding  all !  '  Be 
still,  and  know  that  I  am  God  !' 

"  December  20th. — During  this  past  year  I  have  preached  one  hundred 
and  twenty-six  times  in  my  own  parish,  besides  sermons  in  mission  stations. 
Helped  to  found  thirty  Missionary  Associations  for  the  support  of  female 
Education  in  India,  in  Elgin,  Forres,  Nairn,  Inverness,  Eort  William, 
Helensburgh,  Dunoon,  Perth,  Dundee,  Kilmarnock,  Coldstream,  Hawick, 
Greenock,  and  besides  delivering  addresses  in  Largs,  Glasgow,  Campsie, 
Dalkeith,  Edinburgh  College,  written  the  '  Churchman's  Catechism'  (3,000 
sold)." 


CHAPTER    X. 

1845. NORTH    AMERICA. 

THE  General  Assembly  of  1845  having  determined  to  send  a  de- 
putation to  British  North  America,  to  visit  the  congregations 
connected  with  the  Church  of  Scotland  in  these  colonies,  the  late  Dr. 
Simpson  of  Kirknewton,  Dr.  John  Macleod,  of  Morven,  and  Norman 
Macleod,  of  Dalkeith,  were  appointed  deputies.  They  accordingly 
sailed  from  Liverpool  in  June,  and  were  absent  on  this  duty  for  five 
months.  The  purpose  of  the  deputation  was  to  preach  to  the  many 
congregations  which  had  been  deprived  of  their  clergy  during  the 
recent  ecclesiastical  troubles,  and  to  explain,  when  called  upon,  the 
views  which  had  determined  the  policy  of  those  who  had  remained 
by  the  Church  of  their  fathers.  They  determined  not  to  utter  a  dis- 
respectful word  regarding  their  Free  Church  brethren,  and  while  firmly 
vindicating  their  own  Church,  to  do  nothing  likely  to  interfere  with 
the  usefulness  of  any  other  Christian  body. 

Their  labour — travelling,  preaching,  and  addressing  meetings — was 
severe.  As  a  specimen  of  the  work  which  fell  to  him  in  common 
with  the  others,  he  records  what  was  done  during  one  week.  "On 
Friday,  I  preached  and  travelled  sixteen  miles;  Saturday,  preached 
once  ;  Sunday,  preached  and  gave  two  addresses  to  communicants  at 
the  Lord's  Table ;  Monday,  preached  again ;  Tuesday,  travelled  thirty- 
two  miles  and  spoke  for  an  hour  and  a  half ;  Wednesday,  travelled 
forty-three  miles  and  spoke  for  two  hours ;  Thursday,  preached  and 
travelled  twenty-five  miles !" 

The  following  extracts  are  taken  from  the  letters  he  wrote  during 
his  sojourn  in  America : — 

To  his  Sister  Jane  : —  "On  hoard  the  Commodore,  going  1. ) 

"  Liverpool,  1845. 

"  We  had  a  happy  dinner  at  Glasgow  Mother  sad,  until  '  I  calmed  her 
fears  and  she  was  calm.'  Don't  you  love  your  mother  1  What  is  she  1 
Not  a  nice  body — she  is  too  large  in  soul  and  body  for  that.  Not  a  nice 
soul — she  has  too  much  sense  and  intelligence  for  that.  Not  a  nice  woman 
— she  has  too  much  enthusiasm  and  also  piety  for  tbat.      A  lady  is  not  the 


1845.— NORTE  AMERICA .  1 53 

word — for  my  mother's  income  was  always  small,  good  soul  ;  and  though 
she  could  furnish  ton  ladies  with  what  is  lady-like  and  keep  to  herself  what 
would  serve  to  adorn  a  minister's  house,  lady  is  not  the  word.  My  mother  ! 
That's  it  ;  and  don't  you  love  her  1  I  do ;  and  let  me  tell  you  that  in 
these  days  the  fact  is  worth  knowing. 

"Liverpool,  Half-past  eleven  P.  M. — The  Bell  Buoy  struck  me  much.  As 
the  waves  rise  the  bell  rings.  I  cannot  tell  you  the  effect  it  had  on  my  im- 
agination when  I  first  heard  it.  The  sun  was  setting,  attended  by  a  glorious 
retinue  of  clouds.  Ships  in  full  sail  and  pilot  boats  were  sailing  in  relief, 
and  crossing  and  recrossing  between  us  and  the  red  light.  I  heard  a  most 
solemn  and  touching  chime ;  then  silence  ;  and  the  ding  dong  again  came 
over  the  sea.  I  can  hardly  express  the  strange  thoughts  it  suggested.  One 
could  not  but  think  of  it  in  nights  of  storm  and  darkness  ringing  its  note  of 
warning  to  the  sailoi',  and  its  note  of  welcome  too,  and  perhaps  its  funeral 
dirge.  It  was  so  on  the  awful  7th  of  January,  when  the  New  York  Liner 
was  shipwrecked  on  these  banks ;  when  the  fine  fellow  of  a  captain  got  de- 
ranged as  he  discovered  that  the  light-ship,  his  only  guide,  was  driven  from 
her  moorings  !  1  could  not  but  think  it  was  alive  and  cold  and  lonely  : 
that  it  had  all  the  feeling  of  being  deserted  on  a  waste  of  waters  like  what 
poor  Vanderdecken  had,  who  hailed  every  ship,  but  no  one  came  to  his 
aid;  and  so  the  bell  chimed  and  chimed  for  company,  but  it  only  proved  a 
warning  to  all  who  heard  it  to  sail  away  !" 

"At  Sea. 

When  I  looked  into  Dr.  Simpson's  cabin,  I  saw  a  poor  emaciated  man, 
evidently  dying  of  decline,  in  one  of  the  berths.  I  spoke  kindly  to  him, 
and  found  he  was  an  American  who  had  left  Boston  for  his  health,  thinking 
a  sea  voyage  would  do  him  good.  But  he  wras  now  returning  in  a  dying 
state.  In  the  evening,  the  captain  seeing  how  ill  he  was,  removed  him  to 
a  berth  nearer  the  air.  I  saw  him  again  in  the  evening  and  got  into  con- 
versation with  him  about  the  state  of  his  soul.  He  seemed  very  ignorant 
but  teachable.  He  had  attended  a  Unitarian  Chapel.  I  promised  to  read 
with  him  and  to  come  to  him  any  hour  he  wished ;  gave  him  my  name  and 
told  him  I  was  a  clergyman.  He  seemed  very  grateful.  He  said  his  father 
was  alive,  but  his  mother  was  dead ;  and  she  used  to  speak  to  him  every 
day  on  these  things.  Boor  fellow  !  Perhaps  it  was  in  answer  to  her  prayers, 
that  in  his  last  hours  he  had  beside  him  those  who  spoke  to  him  the  truth. 

"  Saturday,  2\st. — Poor was  speechless  this  morning.       He  died  at 

nine  o'clock.     I  am  very  thankful  that  I  did  not  delay  speaking  to  him. 

"  Sabbath,  22nd. — -Bose  early.  The  morning  was  breezy.  The  coffin  was 
covered  by  a  flag  and  placed  on  a  plank  near  the  jDort.  The  sailors  who 
attended  were  dressed  in  their  white  trousers,  and  many  of  the  passengers  were 
gathered  round.  We  read  together  the  Church  service  for  the  burial  of  the 
dead.  When  we  came  to  the  portion  of  the  service  when  the  body  is  com- 
mitted to  the  deep,  the  plank  was  shoved  forward  with  the  coffin  on  it,  and 
one  end  being  elevated,  the  coffin  slid  down  and  plunged  into  the  ocean ;  a 
splash,  and  his  remains  were  concealed  forever  till  the  day  that  the  sea  shall 
give  up  its  dead. 

"  I  read  the  Church  of  England  service  in  the  forenoon  to  an  excellent 
congregation,  and  John  preached  on  the  text,  '  How  shall  we  escape  V  " 


154  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

To  the  Same  : — > 

"  Friday. — Saw  icebergs  for  the  first  time  in  my  life.  The  first  time  wc 
sighted  them  they  were  gleaming  like  silver  specks  on  the  horizon  ;  but 
their  bulk  soon  became  visible.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  majesty  and 
beauty  of  tJiose  masses  coming  from  some  mysterious  source,  and  floating 
silently  on  the  mighty  ocean.  We  passed  within  two  hundred  yards  of  one. 
The  side  next  the  western  waves  was  hollowed  into  large  caves,  the  preci- 
pice being  only  about  twenty  feet  high.  The  mass  was  of  the  purest  ala- 
baster white  you  can  conceive,  gleaming  and  glistening  in  the  setting  sun ; 
the  waves  were  dashing  against  and  undermining  the  island ;  but  as  the  sea 
rolled  up  foaming  into  these  marble  caves,  it  was  of  the  deepest  and  purest 
emerald.  The  union  of  the  intense  green  and  pure  white  was  exquisitely 
beautiful. 

"In  the  afternoon  the  breeze  increased,  thick  fog  rolled  over  us.  We 
were  all  solemnized  by  the  danger  of  coming  thump  upon  an  iceberg,  which 
all  agreed  might  take  place,  and,  if  so,  instant  destruction  would  follow.  A 
group  of  passengers  met  round  the  capstan  under  cover,  and  near  the  fun- 
nel, for  warmth,  for  the  air  was  piercingly  cold,  and  every  man  seemed  to 
vie  with  the  others  in  telling  dismal  stories,  chiefly  from  his  own  history,  of 
tempests  and  shipwrecks  and  vessels  on  fire  and  destruction  by  icebergs. 
The  scene  in  the  saloon  was  really  striking.  One  of  the  passengers  was 
playing  the  guitar  beautifully,  and  it  was  strange  to  look  round  the  group 
listening  to  him.  Men  from  every  part  of  Europe — a  missionary  bronzed 
with  the  sun  of  India,  Protestant  clergy  and  Catholic,  officers  and  mer- 
chants, all  met,  having  a  common  sympathy,  only  to  scatter  and  never  meet 
again  ;  without,  were  storm  and  mist  and  floating  ice-islands  !  How  like  it 
was  to  each  one  of  us,  floating  on  this  mysterious  sea  of  life,  gleaming  now 
beneath  the  sun,  and  again  tossed  about  and  covered  by  darkness  and  storm, 
and  soon  to  melt  and  disappear  in  the  unfathomable  gulf  wThere  all  is  still ! 

<CI  retired  to  rest  with  sober,  and  I  trust  profitable,  reflections.  There 
was  of  course  the  feeling  of  possible  danger,  which  might  be  sudden  and 
destructive.  I  committed  myself  to  the  care  of  Him  who  holds  the  winds 
in  the  hollow  of  His  hand.  1  read  with  comfort  the  103rd  Psalm.  I 
awoke,  however,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and  how  I  longed  for  the  morn- 
ing !    How  helpless  I  felt,  and  how  my  life  passed  before  me  like  a  panorama ! 

"  Saturday. — You  know  my  love  of  steam  engines,  and  certainly  it  has 
not  been  lessened  by  what  I  have  seen  in  the  Acadia.  What  a  wonderful 
sight  it  is  in  a  dark  and  stormy  night  to  gaze  down  and  see  those  great  fur- 
naces roaring  and  raging,  and  a  band  of  black  firemen  laughing  and  joking 
opposite  their  red-hot  throats  !  and  then  to  see  that  majestic  engine  with  its 
great  shafts  and  polished  rods  moving  so  regularly  night  and  day,  and  driv- 
ing on  this  huge  mass  with  irresistible  force  against  the  waves  and  storms 
of  the  Atlantic !  If  the  work  glorifies  the  intellect  of  the  human  work- 
man, what  a  work  is  man  himself! 

"  Sunday. — Having  kept  my  watch  with  Dalkeith  time,  I  have  had  much 
enjoyment  in  following  the  movements  of  my  household  and  my  flock,  fol- 
lowing them  with  my  thoughts  and  prayers ;  and  the  belief  that  at  the 
hours  of  public  prayer  there  were  some  true  hearts  praying  for  me  was  very 
refreshing. 

"Monday. — Another  magnificent  day;  a  fine  breeze  and  all  sail  set.     I 


1845.— NORTH  AMERICA.  155 

have  had  some  hours  of  most  entertaining  and  deeply  interesting  conversa- 
tions :  one  hour  or  so  -with  the  bishop,  in  which  we  entered  fully  and  freely 
upon  all  the  disputed  points  in  the  Romish  Church,  another  hour  with 
Unitarians, — all   most  useful  and  instructive.      The  passengers  drank  our 

healths  with  three  times  three.     I  leave  the  boat  with  regret. 

-*  *  *  -::-  *  *  * 

"Pictou,  Friday  Night. — This  has  been  a  truly  delightful  day  in  all 
respects.  We  went  to  Church  ;  it  is  a  neat  building  capable  of  holding 
about  eight  hundred.  As  we  drew  near  we  saw  the  real  out-and-out  High- 
land congregation  ;  old  men  and  women  grouped  round  ;  one  or  two  of  them 
were  from  Mull,  and  asked  about  all  my  aunts  and  uncles.  It  looked  like 
speaking  to  people  who  had  been  dead.  But  the  scene  in  the  Church  was 
most  strikino-.  It  was  crammed,  and  the  crowd  stood  a  Ions;  distance  out 
from  the  doors.  Such  a  true  Highland  congregation  I  never  saw,  and  when 
they  all  joined  in  singing  the  Gaelic  Psalm  how  affecting  was  it!  John 
preached  a  splendid  sermon  in  Gaelic,  and  1  preached  in  English  to  the 
same  congregation. 

"  Monday. — Yesterday  is  a  day  never  to  be  forgotten  ;  I  do  not  think  it 
possible  to  convey  the  varied,  solemn,  and  strange  impressions  which  were 
made  upon  my  mind.  The  weather  was  beautiful.  Many  hundreds  had 
remained  in  town  all  Saturday  night.  On  Sabbath  morning  dozens  of  boats 
were  seen  dotting  the  surface  of  the  calm  bay,  and  pulling  from  every  part 
of  the  opposite  shore  towards  Pictou.  About  one  thousand  people  crossed 
during  the  forenoon.  Hundreds  on  horseback  and  on  foot,  in  gigs,  cars, 
carts,  were  streaming  into  town.  At  eleven  o'clock,  Dr.  Simpson  and  I 
went  to  the  church  in  our  pulpit  gowns, — I  in  my  dear  old  Loudoun  gown, 
which  has  covered  me  in  many  a  day  of  solemn  battle.  The  church  could 
not  contain  anything  like  the  congregation.  Dr.  Simpson  preached  and  ex- 
horted the  first  communion  table,  I  exhorted  other  two,  and  this  was  all,  for 
the  Ross-shire  notions  of  communion  are  prevalent  here.  I  occupied  some 
time  in  my  second  address  in  trying  to  remove  such  sinful  and  superstitious 
ideas  as  are  entertained  by  many.  While  Dr.  Simpson  gave  the  concluding 
address  I  went  to  the  tent;*  it  was  on  a  beautiful  green  hill  near  the  town, 
overlooking  the  harbour  and  neighbouring  country.  When  I  reached  it  I 
beheld  the  most  touching  and  magnificent  sight  I  ever  beheld.  There  were 
(in  addition  to  the  crowd  we  had  left  in  the  church)  about  four  thousand 
people  here  assembled  !  John  had  finished  a  noble  Gaelic  sermon.  He  was 
standing  with  his  head  bare  at  the  head  of  the  white  communion  table,  and 
was  about  to  exhort  the  communicants.  There  was  on  either  side  space  for 
the  old  elders,  and  a  mighty  mass  of  earnest  listeners  beyond.  The  exhorta- 
tion ended,  I  entered  the  tent  and  looked  around ;  I  have  seen  grand  and 
imposing  sights  in  my  life,  but  this  far  surpassed  them  all.  As  I  gazed  on 
that  table,  along  which  were  slowly  passed  the  impressive  and  familiar  sym- 
bols of  the  Body  broken  and  Blood  shed  for  us  all  in  every  age  and  clime — 
as  I  saw  the  solemn  and  reverent  attitude  of  the  communicants,  every  head 
bent  down  to  the  white  board,  and  watched  the  expressions  of  the  weather- 
beaten,  true  Highland  countenances  around  me,  and  remembered,  as  I  looked 
for  a  moment  to  the  mighty  forests  which  swept  on  to  the  far  horizon,  that 
all  were  in  a  strange  land,  that  they  had  no  pastors  now,  that  t'hey  were  as 

The  "  tent"  is  a  species  of  movable  pulpit  used  for  open-air  services  in  Scotland. 


» 


156  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

a  flock  in  tlie  lonelv  wilderness — as  these  and  ten  thousand  other  thoughts 
filled  my  heart,  amidst  the  most  awful  silence,  broken  only  by  sobs  which 
came  from  the  Lord's  Table,  can  you  wonder  that  I  hid  my  face  and  '  lifted 
up  my  voice  and  wept]'  Yet  how  thankful,  how  deeply  thankful  was  I  to 
have  been  privileged  to  see  a  sight  here  in  connection  with  the  Church  of 
Scotland  which  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  even  the  Lowlands,  could  not 
afford !  Oh  that  my  father  had  been  with  us  !  what  a  welcome  he  would 
have  received  !  An  address  signed  by  two  thousand  has  this  moment  been 
presented.      Forty  deputies  from  the  Churches  came  with  it. 

"15th. — We  reached  Gareloch,  fifteen  long  miles  off,  about  three  o'clock. 
When  we  reached  the  summit  of  a  hill,  we  saw  the  church  on  the  opposite 
declivity  ;  rows  of  gigs  and  horses  showed  the  people  had  come.  I  spoke 
an  hour  and  a  half  on  the  Headship  of  Christ.  Thank  God  !  we  said  All  the 
good  we  could  of  our  opponents,  and  nothing  bad.  While  John  was  speak- 
ing, I  went  out  to  rest  myself.  I  strolled  for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and 
shimbled  on  the  tent,  used  sometimes  in  preaching.  You  could  not  imagine 
a  more  striking  spot  for  a  forest-preaching.  It  was  in  a  forest  bay.  The 
tent  was  shaded  by  the  trees,  which  swept  in  a  semicircle  around  it.  Im- 
mediately before  it  was  a  cleared  knoll,  capable  of  accommodating  four 
thousand  people,  with  stumps  of  trees  and  large  bare  stems  rising  over  them. 
I  was  told  many  thousands  have  sat  on  that  knoll,  hearing  the  word ;  and 
when  I  visited  it  in  quiet  and  silence,  and  pictured  to  myself  the  scene  which 
a  communion  Sabbath  evening  would  present,  it  made  me  feel  how  unspeak- 
ably great  was  the  blessing  of  the  preached  gospel  in  the  wilderness — how  it 
truly  made  it  bloom  and  blossom  as  the  rose!  And  how  fearful  seemed  the 
sin  of  being  a  covetous  Church,  grudging  to  send  the  bread  of  life  to  a  poor, 
morally  starving  people ! 

"  Wednesday,  \Qth. — Rose  at  five,  and  started  to  preach  at  Wallace,  forty- 
three  miles  off.  Another  gig,  with  a  lady  and  gentleman,  accompanied  us 
all  the  distance  'just  to  hear  the  sermon  and  address !'  The  day  got  fear- 
fully hot,  about  85°  in  the  shade  ;  it  has  kept  at  80  c  ever  since  !  The  drive 
was  the  more  sultry  as  we  had  to  keep  through  forest  almost  the  whole  way. 
But  with  coat  and  waistcoat  off,  blouse  and  straw  hat  on,  and  a  good  sup- 
ply of  cigars,  I  got  on  jollily;  the  roads  were  so  so.  By  clenching  my  teeth, 
and  holding  on  now  and  then,  the  shocks  were  not  so  bad.  While  the  horse 
was  baiting,  about  twelve  miles  from  Pictou,  I  walked  on,  gathering  straw- 
berries, which  are  everywhere  in  abundance,  and  keeping  off  a  few  mosqui- 
toes by  smoking.  I  saw  a  log-hut  near  the  wood,  and  entered  it.  A  man 
met  me,  evidently  poor,  who  could  hardly  speak  a  word  of  English ;  yet  h* 
was  only  five  years  old  when  he  left  Mull !  He  was  married,  and  had  six 
children.  He  seemed  amazed  when  I  spoke  Gaelic ;  welcomed  me  to  the 
house.  But  he  no  sooner  found  out  who  I  was  than  I  was  met  by  a  storm 
of  exclamations  expressing  wonder  and  delight.  He  told  me  two  of  his 
children  were  unbaptised;  and,  as  the  gig  had  come  up,  I  left  him  with  the 
promise  of  returning  to  him  next  day  on  my  way  home. 

"  We  baited  the  horses  at  an  old  fellow's  house,  who  came  here  when  a 
boy  from  Lockerbie  in  1 786.  What  changes  had  taken  place  here  since  then  ! 
He  remembered  only  six  'smokes,'  where  there  are  now  probably  forty  or 
fiftv  thousand — one  house  only  in  Pictou  ;  no  roads,  tfec.  He  said  he  was 
driven  out  of  Isle  St.  John,  now  Prince   Edward's  Island,  by  the  mice,  in 


1 845.— NOB  Til  A MER I CA.  1 0 7 

1813.  A  mice  plague  appeared  in  fcbat  year  over  all  Nova  Scotia  and  Prince 
Edward's  Island.  They  filled  the  woods  and  villages  ;  they  filled  houses 
and  crawled  over  beds,  nibbled  the  windows  of  shops,  ate  up  crops  and  herb- 
age; they  swam  rivers  ;  they  were  met  in  millions  dead  in  the  sea  and  lay 
along  the  shores  like  coils  of  hay  !  If  a  pit  was  dug  at  night,  it  was  filled 
by  morning.  Cats,  martens,  &c,  fed  on  them  till  they  died  from  over- 
working.    Oh  !    It  makes  me  sick  to  think  of  it !    Yet  such  was  one  of  the 

forms  in  which  clanger  and  starvation  met  the  early  settlers. 

*  #  *  #  * 

"  Thursday,  \1th. — We  soon  reached  the  poor  Highlander's  house  where 
I  was  to  baptize  the  child.  The  gigs  drove  on  to  an  inn  to  bait  tlu  mrses, 
and  I  entered  the  log-house.  I  gave  him  an  earnest  exhortation,  and  baptized 
both  his  children.  They  were  neat  and  clean.  It  was  strange  to  hear  them 
talk  Yankee-English,  and  the  father  Gaelic.  I  was  much  affected  by  this 
man's  account  of  himself.  He  had  much  to  struggle  against.  He  had  lost 
a  cow,  and  then  a  horse,  and  then  a  child.  Little  wood  had  been  cleared, 
and  he  was  due  thirty  pounds  for  it.  '  But,'  he  said,  handing  me  a  large 
New  Testament,  'that  has  been  my  sole  comfort.'  I  was  much  struck  on 
opening  it  to  find  it  a  gift  from  'the  Duke  of  Sutherland  to  his  friends  and 
clansmen  in  America.'  "What  blessings  may  not  a  few  pounds  confer  when 
tiius  kindly  laid  out.  The  tears  which  streamed  down  that  poor  man's  face 
while  he  pointed  to  that  fine  large  printed  Testament  would  be  a  great  re- 
ward to  the  Duke  for  his  gifts,  had  he  only  witnessed  them  as  I  did.  The 
poor  fellow  accompanied  me  on  the  road,  and  parted  from  me  with  many 
prayers  and  many  tears.  It  is  this  parting  with  individuals  and  congrega- 
tions every  day,  never  to  meet  again,  which  makes  our  mission  so  solemn 
and  so  mingled  with  sadness.  As  a  congregation  dismisses,  you  can  say 
with  almost  perfect  certainty,  'There  they  go;  when  we  meet  next,  it  will 
be  at  Judgment !' 


■a* 


"  Charlotte  Town. — Stalking  up  the  town  we  met  some  Morven  men. 
The  following  conversation  amused  me  as  exemplifying  a  strong  Church- 
man. A  great  rough  fellow,  a  teetotaler  (?),  was  the  speaker.  His  name 
was  Campbell. 

"  Campbell.   'Is  my  Uncle  Donald  alive?' 

"  John.   '  No.     He  is  dead.' 

"  C.  (very  carelessly).     'Aye,  aye.     Is  my  Uncle  Sandy  alive V 

"  J.   '  No  ;  he  is  dead  too.' 

"  C.  '  Aye,  aye '  (but  no  marks  of  sorrow),  '  and  what  are  his  children 
doing  V 

"  J.   '  Indeed,  they  are  the  only  Free  Churchmen  in  the  parish  ! ' 

*'  C.  (opening  his  eyes  and  lifting  up  his  hands),  '  Save  us  ! — is  that  pos- 
sible !'  The  death  of  his  uncles  was  evidently  a  joke  in  comparison  with 
the  horrible  apostasy  of  his  children. 

"  Tuesday. — This  has  been  a  very  strange  day  ;  but  that  you  may  under- 
stand it,  I  must  give  you  a  little  biography.  There  was  a  man,  McDonald, 
a  missionary  some  twenty  years  ago,  in  the  braes  of  Glen  Garry.  I  believe, 
chiefly  from  his  having  been  given  to  intoxication,  he  was  obliged  to  resign 
his  mission,  and  came  to  Cape  Breton,  and  staid  for  a  year  or  two.  After 
suffering  great  mental  distress,  he  became  a  perfectly  sober  and  steady  man. 


158  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

He  began  preaching  amsmg  the  Highlanders.  His  preaching  had  great 
effect.  He  separated  himself  from  the  other  clergy,  because  he  thought 
them  careless  and  bad.  His  sect  became  stronger  and  stronger.  Many- 
wild  extravagancies  attended  the  '  revivals  '  under  him,  crying  out  and 
screaming-fits  of  hysteria,  which  were  attributed  to  extraordinary  influences. 
The  result,  however,  has  been  that  three  thousand  people,  including  fifteen 
hundred  communicants,  adhere  to  him  ;  he  has  eight  churches  built  and 
twenty-one  prayer-meetings  established  ;  no  lay  preaching ;  elders  in  all  the 
churches ;  sacraments  administered.  He  keeps  all  a-going,  and  has  never 
received  more  than  <£50  a-year  on  an  average.  He  is  laughed  at  by  some, 
ridiculed  by  others,  avoided  by  the  clergy  ;  but  all  admit  that  he  has 
changed,  or  been  the  means  of  changing,  a  thousand  lawless,  drunken  peo- 
ple into  sober,  decent,  godly  livers.  This  man,  then  ordered,  all  his  churches 
to  be  put  at  our  service,  and  sent  an  invitation  through  his  elders  for  me  to 
preach.  Of  course  I  will  preach  wherever  I  am  asked — in  a  popish  church, 
if  they  will  let  me.  The  worse  the  field  the  more  the  need  of  cultivation. 
I  reached  the  church  about  twelve  ;  McDonald,  with  his  snow-white  locks, 
surrounded  by  a  crowd,  met  me.  '  I  rejoice,'  he  said,  taking  off  his  hat, 
'  to  see  here  an  ordained  minister  of  the  Church  of  Scotland.  I  bless  God 
for  the  day.  I  appeal  to  you,  my  people,  if  I  have  not  preached  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Confession  of  Faith,  if  I  have  not  kept  you  from  Baptists, 
Methodists,  and  every  sect,  for  the  Church  of  your  fathers.  Welcome,  sir, 
here.'  I  said  we  would  talk  after  sermon.  I  entered  the  humble  wooden 
kirk  ;  it  was  seated  for  about  three  hundred,  and  was  crammed  by  a 
decent  and  most  attentive  audience ;  twelve  elders  sat  below  the  pulpit. 
McDonald,  with  a  strong  voice,  led  the  psalmody, — he  and  his  elders  stand- 
ing. After  service,  I  went  with  him  to  a  farm-house.  He  gave  me  all  his 
history,  and  we  discussed  all  his  doings.  I  frankly  told  him  my  opinions. 
He  has  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  '  Often,'  he  said,  and  his  lip  quivered  with 
emotion,  '  have  I,  on  a  communion  season,  preached,  and  served  tables,  for 
eight  hours  in  that  church,  no  one  with  me,  and  no  food  eaten  all  the  while.' 
He  seems  now  to  feel  the  loss  of  not  being  in  fellowship  with  the  Church, 
and  the  responsibility  of  leaving  so  many  sheep  without  a  shepherd  ;  and, 
if  any  good  minister  came  to  this  neighbourhood,  he  is  anxkms  to  be  read- 
mitted. When  I  parted  from  him,  he  burst  into  tears>  thanking  me  for  my 
'  kindness  and  delicacy  to  him,'  and  rejoicing  in  my  having  been  with  him. 
His  people,  they  say,  are  very  proud  of  it.  Well,  I  would  fain  hope  a  real 
work  has  been  done  here.  If  there  have  been  extravagancies,  how  many 
such  were  at  Kilsyth  and  other  places ;  and  surely  better  all  this  folly,  with 
such  good  results,  than  cold  and  frigid  regularity  with  no  results  but  death. 
Better  to  be  driven  to  the  harbour  by  a  hurricane  that  carries  away  spars 
and  sails,  than  be  frozen  up  in  the  glittering  and  smooth  sea.  There  are 
many  things  connected  with  McDonald's  sect  I  don't  approve  of.  Two  of 
his  elders  came  to  Charlotte  Town  to  bid  me  farewell.  I  gave  them  many 
frank,  and,  I  thought,  unpleasant  advices.  But  to  my  surprise,  when  part- 
ing, the  old  men  put  their  arms  about  my  neck,  and  imprinted  a  farewell 
kiss  on  my  cheek.   .  .  . 

"  Boston. — I  have  been  actually  three  days  in  Boston.  Do  you  not  think 
I  am  now  well  entitled  to  give  a  sound  opinion  upon  American  manners  ? 
I  have  lived  in  one  of  her  hotels,  heard  two  of  her  preachers,  seen  two  of 


1845.— NORTH  AMERICA.  159 

her  Sabbath-schools — I  have  driven  in  her  cabs  and  omnibuses,  visited  her 
jails  and  lunatic  asylums,  smoked  her  cigars,  read  her  newspapers,  and 
\  isited  Lowell,  and  may  I  not  be  permitted  to  guess  what  sort  of  people 
they  are  1  I  was  prepared  upon  Saturday  to  pronounce  a  judgment  on  the 
whole  nation j  but,  happening  to  be  wrong  in  my  first  opinion,  I  shut  up 
my  note-book.  I  had  mounted  the  box  of  a  coach ;  the  driver  sat  on  my 
left  hand;  he  said  he  always  did.  Just  as  I  had  noted  the  great  fact  that 
'  all  drivers  in  America  sit  on  the  left  side  of  the  box,'  I  thought  I  would 
ask  what  was  gained  by  this.  '  Why,  I  guess,'  replied  Jonathan,  '  I  can't 
help  it ;  I'm  left-hanuled.'  I  learned  a  lesson  from  this  :  to  beware  how  I 
generalise. 

"  Our  visit  to  Boston  was  a  very  agreeable  one.  x  had  ready  access  to 
men  from  whom  I  received  much  information.  There  is  a  Sabbath-school 
Union  in  Massachusetts,  which  I  visited  on  Sunday,  examining  their  books. 
&C,  and  I  shall  bring  home  with  me  all  that  is  better  in  their  system  than 
in  our  own.  On  Monday,  along  with  Mr.  Rodgers,  I  visited  the  American 
Board  of  Missions.  On  the  way  to  it  I  had  a  good  deal  of  conversation 
with  him  on  Voluntaryism.  I  was  struck  with  one  remark.  He  said, 
'  Our  forefathers,  having  suffered  from  the  tyranny  of  Prelatists,  went  to 
the  other  extreme  of  too  great  ecclesiastical  freedom.  You  were  wise  in 
having  kept  your  Books  of  Discipline  and  Confession  of  Faith.'  The 
American  Board  interested  me  much.  There  is  a  large  building  appropri- 
ated exclusively  for  missionary  machinery.  In  the  upper  floor  there  are 
three  rooms — two  of  these  are  for  the  library,  consisting  of  volumes  of 
history  and  accounts  of  the  different  countries  where  their  missions  are  ;  in 
short,  every  book  that  can  be  of  any  use  or  interest  to  a  missionary.  In 
the  other  room,  there  is  a  very  interesting  museum  of  objects  of  natural 
history  from  the  different  parts  of  the  world  where  their  missionaries  labour  ; 
and  what  is  more  interesting,  pagan  spoils,  gods  from  the  South  Seas,  scalps 
and  tomahawks,  &c.  I  was  struck  with  the  many  little  evidences  of  ex- 
tensive missionary  operations — a  large  room  being  filled  with  boxes  directed 
to  the  missionaries  in  different  parts  of  the  world,  and  a  large  press  kept 
for  holding  communications  from  different  missionaries. 

"  September  1st. — I  am  now  fourteen  miles  from  La  Chute.  One  of  the 
most  striking  features  of  Lower  Canada  is  its  Popery  and  Frenchism.  One 
feels  much  more  in  a  foreign  country  here  than  in  the  States.  The  houses 
are  French,  the  same  as  we  see  in  Normandy.  There  are  many  beautiful, 
large,  handsome  churches,  gay  crosses  by  the  wayside,  nunneries  and  colleges. 
The  riches  of  the  Church  are  immense.  Popery  is  to  me  the  mystery  of 
iniquity.  It  awes  me  by  its  incomprehensible  strength.  If  I  could  to- 
morrow believe  that  it  is  possible  to  believe  on  the  authority  merely  of  the 
Church,  and  that  private  judgment  were  not  my  duty,  I  would  turn  Papist. 
It  is  so  sweet  to  the  carnal  heart  to  be  freed  from  responsibility.  But  only 
think  of  that  system — with  its  priests  and  fine  churches  and  colleges  every- 
where !  Why,  two  hundred  years  ago,  the  Jesuits  had  in  Quebec,  in  the 
midst  of  forests,  a  college  like  the  College  of  Glasgow.  The  savage  Indian 
must  have  heard  their  matins,  as  he  prowled  on  the  trail  of  an  enemy. 
While  I  conversed  with  my  intelligent  friend,  Singras,  in  his  room,  I  could 
not  help  expressing  my  wonder,  and  I  am  sure  he  was  sincere  as  he  offered 
up,  with  sparkling  eyes,  a  prayer  for  my  conversion,  and  asked  me  to  allow 


160  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

him  to  pray  for  me.  If  I  am  wrong,  O  Protestant  !  pardon  my  heretic 
heart,  which  must  believe  that  many  a  sincere  and  spiritual  soui  knows  and 
loves  God,  even  when  the  follies  and  infirmities  of  old  Adam  make  him 
sing  hymns  to  the  Virgin  or  adore  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass.  But  I  did 
not  say  this  to  Singras,  but  prayed  God  to  bless  him  and  make  him  a 
Protestant. 

"  But  I  must  resume  my  travels.  There  are  beautiful  fields  between 
Eustache  and  La  Chute.  It  was  at  Eustache  the  rebels  made  their  last 
stand.  They  fortified  the  church.  It  was  burnt  by  our  troops,  and  one  or 
two  hundred  burnt  or  shot.  A  Yorkshireman's  account  of  the  battle  to  me 
was  this  : — '  The  lads  tried  to  cross  the  ice,  intending  to  attack  the  volun- 
teers. They  didn't  ken  the  right  uns  were  oop  oonder  t'  tree.  Weel,  as 
tliea  rebels  gied  across,  the  right  sodgers  fired  a  ball.  Gad  !  it  scored  the 
ice  as  it  hopped  along,  and  over  that  score  none  o'  t'  rebels  wad  gang  for 
life,  but  ran  back  tae  d'  choorch,  where  they  were  boomed — hang  'em  !' 

"  Perth,  Sabbath  Evening. — I  have  had  the  hardest  week's  work  I  ever 
had.  I  have  gone  about  ninety  miles  sailing,  and  a  hundred  and  twenty- 
seven  driving,  often  in  lumber  waggons  without  springs,  over  the  worst 
possible  roads — have  held  fourteen  services,  and  now,  after  having  preached 
three  long  sermons  to-day,  I  am,  thank  God  !  well  and  happy. 

"  I  have  seen  much,  and  enjoyed  myself.  I  have  had  peeps  into  real 
Canadian  life  ;  I  have  seen  the  true  Indians  in  their  encampment ;  I  have 
sailed  far  up  (one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  above  Montreal)  the  noble  Ot- 
tawa, and  seen  the  lumber-men  with  their  canoes  and  the  North-w(  s':ers  on 
their  way  into  the  interior,  some  to  cut  timber,  and  some  to  hunt  beaver 
for  the  Hudson  Bay  Company ;  I  have  been  shaken  to  atoms  over  '  cordu- 
roy' roads,  and  seen  life  in  the  backwoods ;  and  I  have  been  privileged  to 
preach  to  immortal  souls,  and  to  defend  my  poor  and  calumniated  Church 
against  many  aspersions. 

"  Perth,  Monday  Evening. — A  journey  of  twenty-four  miles  is  ended, 
and  I  have  spoken  two  hours  and  a  half.  This  angry  spirit  of  Churchism 
which  has  disturbed  every  fireside  in  Scotland,  thunders  at  the  door  of  every 
shanty  in  the  backwoods.  I  went  to  Lanark  to-day  to  front  it.  The  roads 
were  fearful ;  my  hands  are  sore  holding  on  by  the  waggon ;  but  such  a  de- 
licious atmosphere ;  not  a  cloud  in  the  sky,  and  so  fresh  and  bracing.  The 
delightful  September  weather  is  come ;  the  air  is  exhilarating  almost  to  ex- 
citement. Then,  in  going  through  the  forest,  thei'e  is  always  something  to 
break  what  would  at  first  appear  to  be  intolerable  monotony.  There  are 
tall,  majestic  trunks  of  trees,  which  draw  your  eye  upwards  till  it  rests  on 
their  tufted  heads,  far  up  in  the  sky ;  or  the  sun  is  playing  beautifully 
among  the  green  leaves,  or  some  strange  fire  suddenly  appears  ;  or  you  catch 
glimpses  of  beautiful  woodpeckers,  with  gay  plumage,  running  up  the  tree, 
and  hear  the  tap-tap-tap,  like  a  little  hammer ;  or  you  see  a  lovely  pet  of  a 
squirrel,  with  bushy  tail  and  bright  eyes,  running  a  race  with  you  along  the 
fence,  stopping  and  gazing  at  you,  then  running  with  all  his  might  to  pass, 
you,  then  frisking  with  its  tail  and  playing  all  kinds  of  antics ;  or  you  halt 
and  listen  to  the  intense  silence,  and  perhaps  hear  an  axe  chop-chop-chop, — 
the  great  pioneer  of  civilization ;  and  then  you  suddenly  come  to  a  clear- 
ance, with  fine  fields,  and  cattle  with  tinkling  bells,  and  happy  children, 
and  pigs,  and,  perhaps,  a  small  school,  and  maybe  a  church,  and  almost  cer- 


1845.— NORTH    AMERICA.  161 

tainly  meet  a  Scotchman  or  a  Highlander,  -who  says,  'Gosh  bless  me,  am 
bheil  shibse  mac  Mr.  Tormoid.'  If  you  see  a  miserable  shanty  and  lots  of 
pigs,  expect  to  hear,  '  Erin  go  bragh.' 

"Markham,  twenty  miles  from  Toronto,  20th  September,  Saturday  Night. — 
I  preach  to-morrow  in  Toronto.  What  a  variety  of  opinions  are  here  con- 
gregated !  Churchmen  and  dissenters  of  all  kinds,  as  at  home.  I  always 
preach  the  gospel,  insisting  in  every  place  that  to  believe  this  and  live  is  all 
in  all ,  that  the  whole  value  of  Churches  consists  in  their  bringing  the  liv- 
ing seed,  the  word,  in  contact  with  the  ground,  the  heart;  that  the  Church 
itself  is  nothing  but  as  a  means  towards  effecting  the  end  of  making  us 
know,  love,  and  obey  God.  I  try  to  bring  men  into  the  Church  of  Christ, 
and  make  the  question  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  a  secondary  matter.  In 
explaining  the  Church  question  (which,  along  with  the  sermon,  occupies 
perhaps  three  or  four  hours)  I  avoid  all  personalities,  all  attacks,  and  give 
full  credit  to  my  opponents ;  and  I  think  I  have  not  said  a  word  which  I 
would  not  say  if  these  opponents  were  my  best  friends,  and  were  sitting 
beside  me.  Indeed  I  know  that  a  Free  Church  preacher  was  (unknown  to 
me)  present  at  one  of  my  longest  addresses,  and  that  he  said  he  could  not 
find  fault  with  one  expression.  I  am  thankful  for  this.  You  know  how  I 
hate  Churchism,  and  that  is  one  reason  why  I  think  this  Free  movement  is 
so  dangerous.  But  one  of  the  saddest  feelings  is  that  experienced  at  parting. 
I  have  generally  ended  my  address  by  such  a  sentiment  as  this  :  '  Yet  all 
this  is  not  religion ;  it  is  only  about  religion.  My  sermon  was  on  the  real 
work.  The  true  battle  is  between  Christ  and  the  world — between  believers 
and  unbelievers ;  that  was  the  battle  which  I  have  been  fighting  while 
preaching.  But  this  painful  and  profitless  combat  is  between  Christian 
brethren.  The  Church  controversy  is  a  question  on  non-essentials,  on  '  meat 
and  drink.'  But  '  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink,  but  righteous- 
ness, and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.'  I  have  seen  many  on  their 
dying  beds.  I  never  heard  any  rejoice  that  they  belonged  to  this  or  that 
Church ;  but  if  they  were  glad,  it  was  because  they  were  in  Christ.  It  is 
almost  certain  that,  when  you  and  I  meet  next,  it  will  be  in  the  presence  of 
Christ  Jesus.  If  we  are  glad  then,  it  will  not  be  because  we  have  been  in 
an  Established  or  Free  Church,  but  because  we  are  in  the  Church  gathered 
out  of  every  nation.  And  if  on  that  day  I  can  look  back  with  joy  to  this 
day's  work,  it  will  not  be  because  of  what  I  have  said  upon  the  Church  of 
Scotland,  but  of  what  I  have  said  about  Christ  Jesus.'  Yes ;  these  partings 
are  sad  and  solemn !  But  the  satisfaction  is  great  to  have  told  the  honest 
truth  in  everything.  We  part  always  with  good-will,  and  with  many  kind 
wishes  and  prayers. 

"  The  little  Manse  is  always  affecting  to  me.  It  is  generally  a  small 
wooden  house  ;  no  carpets — poor,  poor.  O  honest  Poverty  !  let  me  never 
contemplate  thee  but  with  a  tearful  eye  of  sympathy  and  love.     Who  would 

laugh  at  poor  S with  his  little  school,  broken  up  by  the  Free  Church, 

and  his '  wife  and  bairns  looking  poor  and  sad  ?     Who  would  smile  but  in 

love  at  M ,  with  his  old  housekeeper,  Kirsty,  and  his  half  bottle  of  port, 

which  he  said  '  should  be  sound  (looking  at  the  glass  between  him  and  the 
light),  but  it  had  been  six  months  drawn,   and  perhaps  had  been  spoiled"?' 

Who  would   despise  poor  's  '  study,'  albeit  there  was  in  it  but  few 

books,  an  old  chair,  a  rickety  tabic  1    Yet  he  himself  was  there,  with  a  large 

11 


162  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

head  and  heart,  and  fit  to  minister  to  any  Church  on  earth.  Who  would 
laugh,  though  he  had  only  a  tin  teapot  and  no  ewer  to  the  basin  ]  Honest 
souls  !  yoiu*  reward  is  little  in  this  world ;  and  most  blameable  will  we  at 
home  be  if  we  do  not  assist  you,  the  pioneers  of  civilisation  in  the  forest  ! 

"  I  shot  the  Long  Sault  rapid.  A  noble  sight.  The  St.  Lawrence,  the 
king  of  streams,  becomes  compressed  between  rocky  islands  and  a  rocky 
shore.  The  result  is  a  wavy,  foaming  current — roaring  like  a  big  burn  after 
a  spate.  Away  goes  the  large  steamer,  four  men  at  the  wheel  forward,  and 
four  men  at  the  tiller  astern  ;  down  she  whirls,  the  spray  flying  over  her 
bows,  and  she  going  seventeen  miles  an  hour.  She  cannot  stem  it,  but  she 
shoots  it  nobly.  It  is  a  fine  sight  to  see  the  majestic  stream,  crossed  and 
angry  and  plunging  and  foaming  like  a  pettish  brook.  The  brook  can  be 
opposed ;  but  what  power  will  stem  the  fury  of  the  St.  Lawrence  1 

"Saturday,  16th. — This  day's  sail  was  '  beautiful  exceedingly.'  It  was 
through  the  Lake  of  the  Thousand  Isles.  I  had,  from  reading  '  Honison's 
Sketches  of  North  America,'  when  §,  boy,  a  vision  of  beauty  and  glory  and 
undefined  grandeur  connected  with  this  same  lake.  Like  most  things  which 
appear  fair  to  the  fancy,  the  reality  did  not  come  up  to  the  dream,  but  still 
it  was  very  beautiful. 

"  Prom  Kingston  we  proceeded  by  steam  to  Toronto,  up  the  bay  of  Quinte 
to  Belleville.  This  bay  is  one  of  the  fair  scenes  in  Canada.  The  moon  rose 
in  glory  and  majesty,  and  I  was  loth  to  quit  the  deck  for  the  confined  crib 
in  the  small  cabin.  While  walking  on  the  upper  deck,  I  heard  a  number 
of  voices  joining  in  a  Gaelic  chorus.  I  went  down  and  there  found  a  dozen 
Highlanders.  After  they  were  finished,  the  following  conversation  took 
place,  I  speaking  in  high  English. 

"  '  Pray  what  language  is  that  ]' 

"  <  Gaelic,  sir.' 

"  <  Where  is  that  spoken  V 

"  '  In  the  Highlands  of  Scotland.' 

"  '  Is  it  a  language  V 

"  '  It's  the  only  true  langklge.    English  is  no  langidge  at  all,  at  all.' 

"  '  It  must  be  banished  ;  it  is  savage.' 

"  '  It's  no  you,  or  any  other,  will  banish  it.' 

"  '  Pray  let  me  hear  you  speak  a  sentence  of  it.  Address  a  question  to 
me.' 

"  '  Co  as  a  thanaig  thu  ?  (Where  do  you  come  from  ? ) 

"  '  Thanaig  mis  as  an  Eilean  Sgianach  !'    (I  come  from  the  Isle  of  Shy e.) 

"  '  Oyfheddail!   'Se  Gael  tha  am?     (Oh  goodness  !   He  is  a  Highlander  ! ) 

"  These  men  had  never  been  in  Scotland.  They  were  all  Glengarry  men, 
and  were  of  course  rejoiced  to  meet  me. 

"  The  number  of  Highlanders  one  meets,  and  of  those,  too,  who  are  from 
the  old  homes  of  Morven  and  Mull,  is  quite  curious.  At  Toronto  there 
came  to  see  us,  first,  three  men  from  Mull  who  had  been  forty  years  in 
Canada,  and  could  speak  hardly  a  word  of  English ;  but  each  was  linked 
some  way  to  my  grandfather's  house,  and  they  laughed  and  cried,  time 
about,  telling  stories  about  the  'water-foot'  of  Aros.  Then  came  an  old  ser- 
vant from  Campbeltown — '  Ochanee  !  ochanee  !' — remembering,  I  believe, 
all  the  shirts  1  had  v/hen  a  boy.  Then  a  man  from  Morven  entered.  'Do  I 
know  your  rather  ?  Tor'noid  Og  !  It's  .ne  that  knows  him.'    My  uncle  tound 


NORTH  AMERICA.  163 

a  woman,  near  Lake  Simcoe,  who  was  hm^ing  to  ■■>■■■  him.  When  ho  enter- 
ed she  burst  into  tears.  She  had  on  a  Highland  plaid  and  a  silver  brooch. 
He  thought  he  knew  the  brooch.  It  was  Jenny  M'Lean's,  the  old  hen-wife 
at  Frunarv,  given  her  by  my  uncle  Donald  before  he  died ;  and  this  woman 
was  Jenny's  sister  !  It  is  like  a  resurrection  to  meet  people  in  this  way. 
And  these  form  the  strength  of  the  country.  As  long  as  the  old  stock  re- 
mains, all  is  sound  and  well.  Old  associations,  the  old  church,  the  old 
school,  the  simple  manners,  the  warm  attachments  of  a  time  almost  vanished 
from  Scotland,  survive  here.  May  they  not  be  blasted  by  the  fierce  fire  of 
Churchism,  which  is  annihilating  the  social  habits  of  Scotland,  and  convert- 
ing  her  peasantry  into  bigots,  and  her  loyal  people  into  fanatic  democrats ! 

«At I  met  old  Di\  M .     He  had  a  frightful  stammer.     I 

asked  how  they  spent  the  Sabbath,  having  no  Minister  ?  He  said,  'I  t-tried 
to  col-coldect  the  pe-pe-people  to  hear  a  ssss-sermon ;  but,  after  reading  one, 
s-somehow  or  other  they  did  not  c-come  to  hear  me  again  !  It  was  t-too 
b-bad  !'    Poor  fellow !  fancy  him  reading  a  sermon  !* 

"  In  crossing  the  Lake,  I  saw  on  the  horizon  a  light  feathery  cloud  of  a 
peculiar  shape.     It  was  the  spray  of  the  Falls  of  Niagara  ! 

"  This  is  my  last  letter  from  America.  God  be  praised  for  all  His  mercies 
to  an  unworthy  sinner.     I  shall  give  you  my  next  journal  viva  voce." 


On  their  return  from  America,  the  deputation  received  a  hearty 
welcome  from  the  Church,  and  the  thanks  of  the  Assembly  were 
accorded  to  them  for  the  manner  in  which  they  had  fulfilled  their 
duty.  Crowded  meetings  were  held  in  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow,  io 
receive  their  account  of  the  Colonies.  The  effects  of  their  visit  were 
long  felt  in  Canada,  and  many  pleasing  tokens  occurred  in  after  years 
of  the  deep  and  lasting  influences  produced  by  the  presence  and  teach- 
ing of  the  deputies. 

*He  used  to  tell  another  story  of  this  good  old  gentleman.  They  were  driving  together 
through  the  foiest  on  a  frightfully  hot  day,  and  the  Doctor  in  a  tremendous  heat,  from 
the  conjoined  labour  of  whipping  his  horse  and  stammering,  began  to  implore  Norman 
Macleod  to  send  them  a  minister.  "  We  d-d-don't  expect  a  v-v-very  c-c-clever  man,  but 
would  be  quite  pleased  to  have  one.  who  could  g-g-give  us  a  p-p-plain  every-day  s-s-s-ermou 
like  what  you  g-gace  us  yovu'oelf  to-day  /" 


CHAPTEli  XL 

EVANGELICAL  ALLIANCE,   AND   TOUR  IN   PRUSSIAN   POLAND   AND    SILESIA. 

THE  excitement  caused  by  the  Disruption  had  not  yet  calmed  down, 
for  the  animosity  of  party  spirit  still  burned  with  a  heat  almost 
unparalleled  even  in  the  ecclesiastical  history  of  Scotland.  Those  who 
had  once  been  intimate  friends  passed  one  another  without  sign  of  re- 
cognition, and  family  life  wTas  embittered  by  parents  and  children, 
brothers  and  sisters,  taking  adverse  sides  on  the  Strathbogie  case,  or  on 
the  powers  of  the  Civil  Magistrate. 

This  reigning  spirit  of  intolerance  stirred  the  keener  feelings  of 
Norman  Macleod  far  more  than  the  questions  which  divided  the  rival 
Churches.  However  decided  his  views  may  have  been  as  to  the 
merits  of  the  controversy,  he  cared  infinitely  more  for  the  main- 
tenance of  just  and  kindly  feelings  between  Christians,  than  for  any- 
thing in  dispute  between  ecclesiastical  parties.  He  did  not  grudge 
the  success  of  the  Free  Church,  and  he  lamented  the  conduct  of  those 
who  refused  sites  for  her  churches.  But  he  protested  with  utmost 
vigour  against  the  spirit  of  intolerance  which  was  too  often  displayed 
by  the  Church  of  the  Disruption,  and  on  some  occasions  he  spoke  and 
wrote  in  strong  terms  against  its  bigotry.  "  I  am  not  conscious  of 
entertaining  any  angry  or  hostile  feeling  towards  the  Free  Church  as 
'  a  branch  of  Christ's  Catholic  Church.'  I  desire  that  God  may  help 
all  its  labours,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  for  advancing  that  '  kingdom 
which  is  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.'  I  respect 
many  of  its  ministers  and  I  enjoy  the  friendship  of  many  of  its  mem- 
bers. I  admire  its  zeal  and  energy.  I  have  no  sympathy  with  the 
alleged  attempts  to  embarrass  any  of  its  ministers — or  the  ministers  of 
any  Church  on  earth — when  seeking  accommodation  for  themselves  or 
their  adherents.  My  remarks  are  directed  solely  against  that  proud 
and  intolerant  sj)irit  which  says  to  the  Church  of  Scotland,  •  Stand, 
back,  I  am  holier  than  thou,'  and  which  has  corroded  so  many  hearts 
formerly  kind  and  loving.  I  detest  Church  controversy;  it  is  rarely 
profitable  to  writer  or  reader  ;  it  is  apt  to  darken  our  minds  and  injure 
our  best  affections.  Let  these  men,  in  one  word,  love  Christians  more 
than  Churches,  and  the  body  of  Christ  more  than  their  own,  and  they 
will   soon  discover  that  separation  from  a  Church,   and   protesting 


EVANGELICAL  ALLIANCE.  L65 

against  a  Church,  are  quite  compatible  with  union  with  that  very 
Ch'irch,  on  the  ground  of  a  common,  faith,  and  co-operation  with  it 
for  the  advancement  of  a  common  Christianity." 

lie  was,  in  truth,  utterly  weary  of  ecclesiastical  strife,  and  when, 
daring  his  visit  to  America,  he  heard  of  the  proposed  formation  of  the 
Evangelical  Alliance,  he  hailed  with  delight  a  project  which  not 
only  harmonized  with  his  own  deepest  feelings,  but  promised  to  have 
a  specially  beneficial  effect  in  healing  the  divisions  of  Scotland. 

The  Alliance  was  then  in  the  freshness  of  its  youth,  and  when  he 
came  home  he  threw  himself  with  his  whole  heart  into  the  movement. 
The  narrowness  of  spirit,  which  afterwards  repelled  him  from  its  ranks, 
had  not,  as  yet,  displayed  its  presence*  He  was  profoundly  touched 
by  the  atmosphere  of  Christian  brotherhood  which  prevailed  at  the 
preliminary  conference  held  in  Birmingham,  and  he  was  still  more 
impressed  by  the  imposing  assembly  of  delegates  from  all  parts  of  the 
world  which  met  afterwards  in  London.  He  had  already  seen  much 
of  the  world,  but  he  had  now  the  privilege  of  becoming  acquainted 
with  some  of  the  most  eminent  representatives  of  home  and  foreign 
Churches,  and  gained  such  an  insight  into  the  vital  principles  and 
character  of  these  Churches  as  only  contact  with  living  men  could 
give.  By  means  also  of  the  Evangelical  Alliance  he  established  a 
friendly  relation  with  many  of  the  great  missionary  bodies  of  England, 
and,  on  their  invitation,  went  for  several  years  to  London  to  attend  the 
May  meetings,  or  to  preach  the  annual  sermon  in  connection  with  some 
of  their  societies.  His  influence  increased  as  his  power  became  known, 
and  his  own  faith  and  courage  were  mightily  strengthened  by  the  en- 
larged sympathies  he  gained  from  co-operation  with  other  Christians. 


To  his  Mothek  : — 

"  Dalkeith,  6th  March,  1S46. 

"  I  am  not  lazy  or  careless — far  less  indifferent ;  but  writing  letters  is 
uncongenial  to  me.  I  fancy  that  when  I  say,  'we  are  all  well,  and  love 
yen,  and  are  always  thinking  of  you  and  speaking  of  you,'  that  I  have 
said  all  that  is  required ;  and  that  the  state  of  the  weather,  the  health  of 
dogs  and  cats,  and  the  jog-trot  adventures  of  every  day,  cannot  merit  a 
record  on  paper.  There  are  a  thousand  things  I  would  like  to  say — not  to 
wiite — that  abominable  scratch,  scratch,  scratch  !  that  heavy,  lumbering 
bread-and-butter  style  of  conveying  stories  and  facts  Avhich  need  the  eye, 
the  voice,  the  grace,  notes  and  touches  which  give  them  life !  It  is  after  all 
but  another  edition  of  Laura  Bridgman,  a  speaking  from  the  tip  of  the 
lingers,  and  giving  glimpses  of  thought. 

"  Now  here  I  am  with  yards  of  paper  before  me,  and  6,000  people  round 
me — a  romance  in  every  close,  a  tale  in  every  family  requiring  volumes  and 
not  pages.  Jane  will  tell  you  what  a  coach-horse  life  I  lead,  and  how  diffi- 
cult it  is  for  me  to  get  time  to  pour  out  my  heart,  though  full  to  the  brim, 
into  yours,  which  I  verily  believe  would  never  be  so  full  as  to  make  you 

*See  Chapter  XVI,  May  25th,  1S63. 


166  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

call  'stop,'  though  all  your  children  were  to  write  to  you  by  the  steam  press. 

"  But  what  news  can  I  give  you  1  '  Can  I  not  tell  what  is  doing  in  the 
house]'  Yes ;  but  are  you  serious  in  saying  you  wish  to  hear]  'Yes,  quite 
serious.'  Then,  if  so,  you  have  little  to  think  about.  But,  as  far  as  I  know, 
the  following  is  the  state  of  the  house  : — 

"  As  to  the  attics,  one  is  locked  up,  and  in  the  other  your  youngest  son 
slept  last  night  under  the  influence  of  a  lesson  in  Latin  and  a  plate  of  por- 
ridge. In  the  next  floor,  one  bedroom  is  cold  and  empty.  Another  room 
was  occupied  last  night  by  your  firstborn.  As  you  may  like  to  know  how 
he  passed  the  night,  I'll  tell  you.  Having  resolved  to  be  abstemious  in  his 
eating — '  Why  now  are  you  that  V  My  dear  mother,  a  man's  liver  is  the 
better  of  it.  It  keeps  him  cool,  makes  him  sleep  well,  and  wake  light  and 
hearty.  Well,  having  resolved  to  be  abstemious,  I  took  one  and  a  half 
Welsh  rabbits  to  my  supper — the  cheese  (being  next  to  milk)  was  laid  on 
thick.  I  was  soon  asleep.  '  Did  you  dream  V  No.  '  No  nightmare  1 '  No. 
'  What  did  you  do  V     Sleep,  according  to  an  old  habit. 

"  Lower  floor — study  occupied  by  your  son,  one  pipe,  a  dog  and  cat, 
books,  «fec.  Other  rooms  empty.  Cellars — rubbish,  broken  glass  and  starved 
rats. 

"Are  you  wiser  now1?  'And  what  is  doing  outside1?'  My  dear,  that 
outside  is  a  big  word.  The  sky  is  blue ;  the  birds  are  singing ;  carts  are 
passing  on  the  road;  men  and  women  are  drinking;  some  crying;  some 
starving ;  some  dying.  The  word  has  tolled  me  back  to  being  !  I  can  be 
merry  no  longer.  I  was  laughing  beside  you,  but  now  I  am  in  real  life.  I 
see  sad  scenes,  and  hear  sad  things,  and  my  heart  is  not  light.  So  I  shall 
not  write  anything  more  to-day — but  my  sermon." 

To  his  Mother  : — 

"  Dalkeith,  June  3rd,  1846. 

"  I  cannot  let  my  birthday  pass  without  saying  God  bless  thee — for  my 
birth  and  up-bringing — and  the  unceasing  love  and  goodness  which  has 
beamed  upon  me  from  your  heart  and  which  has  gladdened  my  life  on  earth, 
and  next  to  the  grace  of  God  has  helped  to  prepare  me  for  the  life  in  Heaven 
which  I  hope,  through  the  mercy  of  God  in  Christ,  to  share  with  yourself, 
and  perhaps  with  all  who  have  shared  our  domestic  joys." 

To  his  Sister  Jane  : — 

"  Evangelical  Alliance  Coxferexce  at  Birmingham, 

4  o'clock,    Wednesday,  April. 

"I  have  been  in  two  'Sessions'  of  the  Conference,  and  take  half  an  hour's 
breathing  time  to  write  to  you  my  first  impressions.  You  ask  how  I  liked 
it1?  I  reply  that  it  was  one  of  the  happiest  evenings  I  ever  spent  on  earth. 
Never  in  any  company  had  I  the  same  deep  peace  and  joy,  and  the  same 
broken-heartedness  for  sin.  Oh !  what  a  prayer  was  that  of  Octavius  Wins- 
low's  !  It  stirred  my  deepest  feelings,  and  made  the  tears  pour  down  my 
cheeks.  How  I  wished  that  you  could  have  been  there  !  And  to  see  so 
many  on  their  knees — and  to  hear  the  '  Aniens'  of  acquiescing,  sympathising, 
and  feeling  spirits  !  I  would  have  gone  ten  times  the  distance  to  have 
enjoyed  all  I  did. 

"About  12U  are  present  to  day.     Candlish,  Guthrie,  Hamilton,  are  there, 


EVANGELICAL  ALLIANCE.  167 

but  I  have  not  yet  spoken  to  any.  I  am  move  afraid  to-day.  I  fear  that 
they  are  growing  too  fast  outwards.  As  long  as  we  deal  with  God,  we  seem 
omnipotent  in  Him  and  through  Him,  but  our  attemptsat  work  professedly 
for  Him  seem  to  me  highly  dangerous  as  yet.  I  pray  I  !-od  that  all  may  go 
on  well.  The  prayer  and  praise  are  glorious.  It  has  developed  in  me  an 
affection  which  hitherto  I  have  only  manifested  but  partially — very  partially 
— and  that  only  in  words — because  of  a  lack  of  opportunity, — I  mean,  love 
to  ministerial  brethren.  I  feel  like  a  man  who  had  brothers — but  they  had 
been  abroad — and  he  had  never  seen  them  before.  I  feel  too,  how  much 
knowing  the  brethren  comes  from  seeing  them ;  'the  brother  whom  he  hath 
seen '  increases  love  to  Him  who  is  unseen." 

To  his  Sister  Jane  : — 

'•  Conference  at  London,  Wednesday,  May  25th. 

'  Everything  goes  on  pleasantly  and  well.  The  Frees,  honest  fellows,  are 
not  here.     They  are  a  loss,  for  they  have  good  heads  for  business. 

"  Bickersteth,  dear  man,  is  in  the  chair,  and  Bunting,  noble  man,  is  now 
speaking.  Angel  James  is  about  to  follow,  and  Dr.  Raffles  has  finished.  It 
is  mere  chat,  like  a  nice  family  circle,  and  I  hope  that  our  Elder  Brother  is 
in  the  midst  of  it." 

To  Elizabeth  Patterson.* 

"At  Sea,  on  Jiis  way  to  London,  6  p.m.,   Wednesday,  August. 

"  How  rich  is  that  grace  which  can  not  only  give  peace  to  ourselves,  but' 
also  make  us  share  His  own  joy  in  giving  good  and  happiness  to  others  ! 
None  but  He  could  make  you,  a  weak  creature,  without  hands  or  feet  or 
tongue,  stretched  on  a  bed  of  pain — able  not  only  to  be  an  example  to  us  of 
faith  and  patience,  but  an  inexpressible  strength  to  us,  as  you  have  many  a 
day  been  to  me.  Well,  dear,  His  own  work,  whatever  it  be,  will  be  per- 
fected in  you,  and  by  you ;  and  then,  but  not  till  then,  He  will  perfect  you 
in  Himself.  But  as  long  as  you  can  please  and  glorify  Him  more  on  earth 
than  in  Heaven,  you  will,  I  am  sure,  be  content  to  stay;  and  I  hope  we  shall 
all  be  taught  by  your  meek  compliance  with  His  will  to  comply  with  it  too, 
when  He  takes  you  hence  or  takes  us.  He  Who  has  hitherto  so  wonder- 
fully helped  you,  is  able  surely  to  help  you  to  the  end.     The  Hand  which 

'Among  the  many  members  of  his  flock  in  Dalkeith  who  encouraged  him  in  his  work, 
there  was  one  who,  unable  herself  to  take  an  active  share  of  duty,  yet  perhaps  really 
strengthened  him  more  than  any  other.  Elizabeth  Patterson  had  been  an  invalid  and  a 
sufferer  for  several  years  before  he  came  to  the  parish,  and  during  the  eight  years  of  his 
ministry  there,  she  was  only  once  or  twice  out  of  bed.  She  required  the  constant  care 
of  her  widowed  mother  and  her  loving  sisters.  She  was  frequently  so  weak  when  he 
visited  her,  that  she  could  not  speak  but  in  a  whisper  ;  yet  that  always  expressed  kind- 
ii  ><  towards  others,  or  meek  resignation  to  the  will  of  God.  She  seemed  to  foiget  her- 
self in  the  interest  she  took  in  Christ's  kingdom,  caring  for  the  good  of  the  poorest  child 
in  Dalkeith  as  well  as  for  the  advance  of  religion  over  the  earth.  It  was  no  wonder  that 
such  a  character  drew  forth  his  sympathies.  He  often  spoke  of  the  comfort  and  strength 
he  got  from  witnessing  her  faith  and  courage,  and  from  knowing  that  she  and  her  family, 
and  her  good  friend  Mrs.  Porteous,  were  "instant  in  prayer"  on  his  behalf.  Often, 
after  a  weary  day's  work  in  filthy  closes,  he  would  find  refreshment  and  gain  new  hope- 
fulness at  the  bedside  of  this  holy  sufferer.  She  and  her  family  afterwards  went  to  St. 
Andrew's,  but  until  the  time  of  her  death  in  1863,  he  kept  up  his  friendship  with  her, 
and  sontutimes  went  irom  Glasgow  to  visit  her  on  her  weary  sick-bed. 


163  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

holds  all  the  ocean  I  see  around  me,  which  sustains  this  blue  sky  over  my 
head,  can  uphold  and  sustain  your  weak  body,  for  it  is  more  precious  than 
all  this  big  world.  It  is  a  redeemed  body.  The  mountains  may  depart ; 
His  love  never  !  Every  drop  of  the  ocean  will  be  exhausted ;  His  love 
never !  The  Heavens  will  depart  like  a  scroll,  but  they  who  do  His  will 
shall  abide  for  ever  !  Let  us  praise  Him  !  May  He  be  with  you  day  and 
night !  " 

To  his  Sister  Jane  :— 

"  Loxdox,  August. 

"  The  Alliance  has  been  formed.  Such  a  scene  of  prayer,  shaking  of 
hands,  and  many  weeping?  ! 

"  I  met  a  man  this  morning  with  a  towering  forehead,  having  '  the  har- 
vest of  a  quiet  eye/  and  '  a  most  noble  carriage.'  I  was  introduced  to  him, 
and  he  said,  '  I  know  your  name,  and  I  am  glad  to  have  seen  your  face.'  I 
replied,  '  Sir,  I  have  long  revered  you,  and  now  rejoice  to  grasp  your  hand.' 
Then  we  for  a  short  time  discoursed  about  our  Church,  and  when,  in  expla- 
nation of  our  position,  I  said,  '  I  fear  I  must  call  the  Free  Church  the  party 
of  Presbyterian  Puseyism,'  he  seized  my  arm,  and  said,  '  You  have  taken 
the  words  out  of  my  mouth.  I  wrote  to  the  King  stating  the  same  thing. 
I  think  they  are  making  the  Church  an  idol.'     Who  was  this? — Bunsen." 

"  London,  August  ith,  1845. 

"  I  have  just  time  to  say  that  our  Alliance  goes  on  nobly.  There  are 
1,000  members  met  from  all  the  world,  and  the  prayers  and  praises  would 
melt  your  heart.  Wardlaw,  Bickersteth,  Tholuck,  say  that  in  their  whole 
experience  they  never  beheld  anything  like  it.  I  assure  you  many  a  tear 
of  joy  is  shed.  It  is  more  like  Heaven  than  anything  I  ever  experienced 
on  earth.  The  work  is  done,  a  work  in  our  spirits  which  can  never  be  un- 
done. The  Americans  have  behaved  nobly.  I  am  appointed  chairman  of 
one  of  the  future  meetings  for  devotion,  an  honour  to  which  I  am  not  entitled 
except  as  representing  my  Church.  I  would  the  whole  world  were  with  us ! 
No  report  can  give  you  any  idea  of  it.  I  am  half  asleep,  as  it  is  past 
midnight.     I  have  to  meet  Czersky  at  breakfast  at  eight." 

To  his  Mother  : — 

"  My  mind  and  heart  are  almost  wearied  with  the  excitement  of  this 
time.  Meetings  every  day — conversing,  smoking  with  Germans,  French, 
Americans,  &c. — all  in  love  and  harmony.  Tholuck,  Bheinthaler,  Barth, 
Cramer,  from  Germany ;  Monod,  Fisch,  Yernet,  from  France ;  Cox,  Kirk, 
Skinner,  Paton,  Emery,  De  Witt,  Baird,  from  America.  It  would  take 
hours  to  tell  you  my  news." 

From  his  Journal  •  — 

''September,  1S46. 

"  What  an  eventful  year  this  has  been  to  me  !  In  June,  1845,  I  crossed 
the  great  Atlantic,  and  returned  home  in  safety  in  November.  Since  then 
I  have  had  much  to  do  with  colonial  matters.  I  have  received,  with  my 
colleagues,  the  thanks  of  the  Assembly.  I  have  visited  Birmingham  as  a 
member  of  the  Evangelical  Alliance.      I  have  been  thrice  in  London — once 


EVANGELICAL  ALLIANCE.  169 

to  address  five  meetings  on  onr  Missions,  and  once  as  a  Member  of  the 
Select  Committee  of  the  Alliance,  and  the  third  time  attending  the  Alliance 
itself.  I  have,  besides,  written  four  articles  for  a  Magazine,  spoken  at  four 
public  meetings  in  Scotland,  and  I  have  not  neglected  my  own  parish.  1  trust  I 
may  now  have  some  time  to  devote  my  whole  energies  to  this  home  work, 
and  to  publishing  religious  tracts.  I  have  gained  more  than  I  can  express 
by  intercourse  with  the  world.  In  America,  and  at  the  Alliance,  I  have 
mingled  more  with  other  minds — got  hold  of  more — than  during  my  whole 
lifetime. 

"  What  has  been  done  by  the  Alliance  1 

"  1.  Brethren  have  met  and  prayed  together;  they  have  become  acquainted 
and  learned  to  love  one  another.  Is  this  not  much  1  If  the  tree  must 
grow  from  within — if  Love  is  to  be  the  fountain  of  all  cjood  to  the  Church 
and  the  world — is  this  not  much  1  Is  it  not  almost  all  1  Was  not  every  one 
at  the  Alliance  melted  by  the  harmony  and  love  that  prevailed  ]  What 
holy  and  happy  hours  were  these !  Often  was  that  room  in  Birmingham 
and  London  felt  to  be  the  house  of  God,  the  gate  of  Heaven  ! 

"  2.  Was  it  not  much  to  have  agreed  upon  a  basis,  and  to  have  presented 
to  the  Papist  so  much  harmony  upon  cardinal  doctrines  1  All  who  had  any 
dealings  with  the  Popish  Church  felt  this. 

"  3.  May  not  a  louder  voice  now  speak  to  the  world  than  has  spoken  for 
a  time  ? 

"  The  happiest  and  proudest  day  I  ever  spent  was  the  day  I  presided  in 
London  over  the  Evangelical  Alliance." 


ov 


To  Principal  Campbell,  of  Aberdeen  : — 

"Dalkeith,  September,  1846. 

•'  I  received  your  brochure  yesterday.  I  do  not  quite  agree  with  you  in 
some  points.  I  think  there  may  be  all  the  one-ness  which  Christ  ever  in- 
tended to  exist  in  the  Church,  without  that  kind  of  visible  unity  which 
you  seem  to  contend  for.  The  grand  problem  is  how  to  obtain  the  greatest 
amount  of  one-ness  in  essential  doctrine — in  affection — in  work — with  the 
greatest  amount  of  personal  and  congregational  freedom  as  to  government 
and  worship.  We  may  begin  by  assuming  that  denominations  must  exist. 
Let  us  try  to  give  the  disjecta  membra  unity.  Find  the  unknown  quantity 
x,  which  is  to  be  the  bond  of  union.  Here  they  are  : — legs,  arms,  heads, 
eyes,  ears,  scattered  about.  What  form  of  body  will  unite  them,  leaving 
to  each  his  individuality  ?  Heaven  alone  knows ;  I  don't.  In  the  mean- 
time we  must  do  what  we  can. 

"  I  preached  the  anniversary  sermon  for  the  Wesleyans  in  their  large 
chapel  in  Edinburgh.  Such  a  crowd  !  Long  before  the  hour  every  crevice 
was  choked.  Up  the  pulpit  stairs,  and  filling  all  the  passages.  As  Southey 
says  of  the  rats, 

'•'  'Arid  in  at  the  windows,  and  in  at  the  door, 
And  through  the  walls  in  hundreds  they  pour, 
From  within  and  without,  from  above  and  below, 
And  all  at  once  to  the  Bishop  they  go. ' 

"  I  am  the  first   established  minister  who  has  preached  in  their  church." 
The  death  of  his  old  teacher,  I  >r.  Chalmers,  deeply  moved  him,  and, 


170  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

when  addressing  the  Lay  Association  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  he 
took  the  opportunity  of  paying  a  tribute  to  the  memory  of  this  great 
and  good  man — "  whose  noble  character,  lofty  enthusiasm,  and 
patriotic  views  will  rear  themselves  before  the  eyes  of  posterity  like 
Alpine  peaks,  long  after  the  narrow  valleys  which  for  a  brief  period 
divided  us  are  lost  in  the  far  distance  of  past  history." 

To  his  Mother  : — 

'•  June,  1847. 

"Another  third  of  June  !  and  another,  and  another — it  may  be — until 
there  is  no  son  to  write  and  no  mother  to  write  to,  and  the  passing  birth- 
days of  time  are  lost  in  the  new  birth  of  an  endless  day. 

"  You  would  be  grieved  for  dear  old  Chalmers.  I  am  sure  you  will 
sympathize  with  what  I  said  about  him  at  our  public  meeting  on  Tuesday. 
I  was  grieved  that  later  differences  prevented,  I  think  foolishly,  any  notice 
being  taken  of  his  death  in  our  Assembly.  The  motives  for  our  doing  so 
might  have  been,  perhaps,  misunderstood.  There  is  a  great  power  at  work, 
called  Dignity,  which  sometimes  appears  to  me  to  be  like  General  Tom 
Thumb,  the  dwarf,  acting  Napoleon.  I  may  be  misinterpreted,  too — I 
don't  care.  A  man's  head — at  least  mine — may  deceive  a  hundred  times  a 
day — a  man's  heart  never  !  I  never  felt  the  lightness  or  the  wrongness  of 
any  thing  strongly,  without  its  really  turning  out  to  be  the  right  or  the 
wron"  I  thought  it  was.  Dear  old  man  !  He  is  among  congenial  minds 
for  the  first  time — he  never  breathed  his  own  native  air  till  now — never  felt 
at  home  till  now.  I  intend  going  to  his  funeral.  I  hope  the  Free  Church 
will  have  the  taste  not  to  attempt  to  make  it  sectarian — Chalmers  belonged 
to  Scotland.  I  am  just  going  to  write  a  funeral  sermon  on  him.  I  feel  he 
is  a  father  and  brother  a  thousand  times  more  than  men  whom  I  address  as 
'  Fathers  and  Brethren.' 

"  This  is  a  glorious  day.  The  hawthorn  is  bursting  into  wreaths  of  snow  ; 
'  the  birds  are  busy  in  the  woods ;'  the  butterflies  are  glinting  among  the 
bushes  ;  and  everything  is  lovely. 

"  Is  my  father  with  you  1  I  need  not  say  that  he  is  inseparably  con- 
nected with  you  in  my  thoughts  to-day,  for  I  am  sure  a  kinder  father  no 
children  ever  had.  I  am  thankful  that  he  fixed  upon  the  Ministry  for  me. 
I  declare  I  do  not  remember  a  day  when  I  thought  it  possible  that  I  could 
be  anything  else  than  a  Minister — nor  do  I  remember  any  other  profession 
which  for  a  moment  I  ever  wished  to  adopt — unless  in  school,  when  I  once 
desired  to  be  a  bandmaster ;  at  another  time,  a  Ducrow  galloper  on  horses ; 
and,  lastly,  and  more  especially,  a  Captain  of  a  man-of-war  ! 

"  My  dear,  I  remember  long  ago,  when  there  was  a  minister  of  the  name 
ol  Macleod  in  Dalkeith." 

To  Mr.  James  M'Pherson,  Loudoun  :~» 

"D.VLKEiTn,  June  30^,  1847. 

"I  do  not  feel  that  I  am  separated  from  my  beloved,  tenderly,  deeply 
beloved  flock,  who  have  either  left  Loudoun  for  Heaven,  or  left  the  Estab- 
lishment for  another  branch  of  Christ's  visible  Church.  I  feel  we  are 
united  by  bonds  far  closer  than  we  understand  ;  bonds  which  Christ  has 
cast  around  us,  which  He  wilJ  lovingly  keep  around  us,  and  vhich  He  will 


EVANGELICAL  ALLIANCE.  171 

not  let  the  world  or  ourselves  sever.  And  oh  !  how  I  Ion"  for  His  comhi"-  ; 
when  we  shall  be  together  again  ;  when  we  shall  know  even  as  we  are 
known,  and  be  for  ever  with  Himself!" 

From  hia  Journal  : — 

"July  4,  '47. — I  never  felt  more  overwhelmed  by  work  than  during  the 
five  weeks  which  preceded  my  Communion.  I  was  concerned  for  the  As- 
sembly, that  it  should  do  God's  will.  I  was  convener  of  the  committee 
appointed  to  select  and  send  off  a  deputation  to  the  Colonies,  which  are 
ever  present  to  me.  I  had  public  sermons  to  preach  in  Glasgow  and  Edin- 
burgh. I  had  to  speak  the  truth,  and  fitting  truth,  at  the  Lay  Association 
and  Female  Education  Meetings.  The  Evangelical  Alliance  was  coming. 
1  was  to  speak  there.  Then  there  were  preparations  for  the  Communion, 
and  a  great  deal  of  sickness  in  the  parish.  At  home,  my  own  dear  brother, 
George,  was  ill,  and  my  mother  and  I  going,  in  thought,  to  the  graves  at 
Campsie.  In  short,  I  never  had  such  a  pressure  upon  me.  I  could  have 
wished  to  bury  my  head  in  the  grave. 

"  To  add  to  this,  on  the  Wednesday  before  my  Communion,  ten  minutes 
after  leaving  our  Session  meeting,  good  Mr.  Bertram,  my  elder,  fell  down 
dead  !  It  was,  indeed,  a  very  trying  time  ;  yet  I  had  much  inward  peace. 
I  felt  as  if  outside  of  the  house  there  were  wind  and  storm,  which  beat  into 
the  ante-chambers ;  but  that  there  was  within  a  sanctuary  which  they  did 
not  and  could  not  reach.  I  experienced  a  strange  combination  of  great 
trouble  and  perfect  peace.  And  how  graciously  has  God  brought  me 
through  all !  The  Assembly  was  very  good ;  its  debates  calm  and  truthful, 
its  decisions,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  just  and  righteous.  The  deputation  to 
America  was  selected  after  much  correspondence.  I  am  since  vindicated 
for  having  proposed  and  carried  their  appointment.  They  have  received  an 
enthusiastic  welcome,  and  they  themselves  acknowledge  that  their  mission 
was  needed.  My  public  sermons  were  well  received,  and  I  hope  did  good. 
I  spoke  as  I  wished,  i.e.  the  truth  which  I  desired  to  communicate  to  the 
Lay  Association,  and  at  the  meetings  for  Female  Education  in  India,  and 
of  the  Evangelical  Alliance.  I  was,  at  home,  able  to  strengthen  and  com- 
fort dear  Mrs.  Bertram.  I  never  had  a  more  peaceful  and  delightful  Com- 
munion. My  dear  George  is  recovering.  Oh,  how  my  prayers  have  been 
answered  Thou,  God,  knowest !  I  have  passed  through  all  this  in  peace. 
I  thank  God.  For  I  do  feel  that  His  supporting  grace  can  alone  enable  one 
to  meet  the  sorrowing  burden  of  humanity.  The  flesh  would  say,  fly,  hide 
thyself,  partake  not  of  those  cares  and  troubles.  But  this  is  not  the  voice 
of  the  Spirit.  The  Spirit  of  Jesus  would  have  us  carry  the  care,  and  the 
.anxiety,  and  the  sorrow  of  the  world,  all  the  while  giving  us  His  peace — 
that  peace  which  He  had  even  when  He  wept  at  Bethany  and  over  Jerusa- 
lem, and  went  about  doing  good,  and  mourned  for  unbelief. 

"  Faith  in  an  eternal  life  with  God,  must,  I  think,  arise  necessarily  out 
of  love  to  Him  here.  Did  I  only  know  that  David  loved  God,  I  would, 
without  further  evidence,  believe  that  he  had  full  assurance  of  lite  beyond 
the  grave. 

"  To  me  the  greatest  mystery  next  to  the  mystery  of  God's  will  is  my 
own  !  It  is  of  all  truths  the  most  solemn  to  recognize  the  possession  of  a 
responsible  will — which  because  it  is  a  will  can  choose,  and  because  of  sin 
does  choose,  what  is  opposed  to  the  will  of  God. 


172  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

"  The  existence  and  influence  of  Satan  are  not  more  nij'sterious  than  the 
existence  and  influence  of  bad  men.  Evil  is  the  mystery — not  evil  agents 
and  evil  influence.  Considering  all  things,  perhaps,  a  Demoniac  in  the  syn- 
agogue, a  wicked  Judas  in  the  Church,  is  a  greater  mystery  than  Satan. 

"  The  great  difference  between  the  laT.7  and  the  gospel  is,  that  the  latter 
brings  a  power  into  operation  for  producing  that  right  state  of  mind — love 
to  God — which  the  law  commands  but  cannot  effect. 

"  Christ  is  the  living  way,  the  eternal  life,  as  He  gives  to  us  His  own 
life  and  Spirit.     To  be  as  He  was  is  the  only  way  to  the  Father. 

"  God  is  surely  revealing  Himself  to  all  His  creatures.  I  cannot  think 
that  there  is  even  a  Bushman  in  Africa  with  whose  spirit  the  living  God  is 
not  dealing.  The  voice  of  God  is  speaking  though  they  may  not  hear  it ; 
yet  they  may  hear  it,  and  so  hear  it  as  to  know  the  living  and  true  God. 

"  St.  Paul  said  that  God  had  appointed  the  bounds  of  men's  habitations 
that  they  might  seek  after  Him.  This  implies  that  to  find  Him  was  possi- 
ble. 

"  I  will  never  agree  to  the  sensuous  philosophy  which  insists  on  all  teach- 
ing coming  through  materialism.  Education  is  to  lead  out,  to  draw  out, 
what  I  may  already  possess. 

"God  has  made  us  for  joy!  Joy  is  the  normal  state  of  the  universe. 
This  only  makes  Christ's  sorrow  more  terrible.  Man's  joy  and  God's  joy  must 
be  one.     'Ye  shall  be  as  gods.'    Yes  ;  but  not  by  the  Devil's  teaching. 

"  What  dreadful  suffering  must  Christ  have  endured  from  want  of  human 
sympathy  !  How  alienated  is  man  from  God,  when  Peter  and  the  apostles 
were  so  alienated  from  Christ.  '  I  am  not  alone,  for  the  Father  is  with  me,' 
but  none  else  !" 


The  movement  in  favour  of  a  reformed  Church,  inaugurated  in  Po- 
land by  Eonge  and  Czersky,  was  at  this  time  awakening  much  interest 
among  Protestants.  Both  Eonge  and  Czersky  had  been  present  at  a 
meeting  of  the  Alliance,  and  as  some  members  of  that  body  were 
anxious  to  obtain  reliable  information  on  the  subject,  Norman  Mac- 
leod  was  asked  to  accompany  the  late  Dr.  Iierschell  of  London  on  a 
visit  to  the  principal  congregations  of  the  new  communion. 

XOTES    OF   A    VISIT    TO    PRUSSIAN    POLAND    AND    SILESIA    IN    AUGUST,    1847 

To  his  Father  : — 

"During  my  short  stay  abroad  I  intend  to  address  all  my  letters  to  you, 
in  the  hope  that  they  may  contain  something  interesting,  which  may,  per- 
haps, induce  you  to  bear  with  that  peculiar  hierogtyphical  character  which 
I  generally  use  in  writing,  and  which,  through  your  excellent  example,  I 
have  studied  from  my  earliest  infancy.  I  must  begin  at  the  beginning — 
whether  or  not  I  shall  continue  to  tlie  end  is  another  question. 

"At  York  we  visited  the  Castle  and  all  its  horrors — saw  old  and  young 
confined  in  stone  courts,  hard  stone  under  foot,  hard  stone  on  every  side, 
stone  and  iron  surrounding  them  during  day  and  night,  and  we  in  sunshine 
and  breeze,  with  joy  above  and  around  us.  Saw  the  condemned  cell,  with 
its  iron  bed  and  cold  walls,  the  only  view  being  through  thick  bars,  upon  a 


ETANGELICAL    ALLIANCE.  173 

small  green  spot  with  rank  grass,  surrounded  by  walls,  where  the  wretched 
occupant  must  be  laid  on  the  day  of  his  execution,  along  with  those  who 
have  gone  before  him  to  the  same  sad  spot.  A  burying-place  which  con- 
tains the  bodies  of  those  only  who  have  been  executed  is  a  sad  and  solemn 
sight. 

"  From  this  we  passed  to  the  Minster  once  more.  And  what  a  change  from 
the  cell  and  the  graveyard,  and  the  cut-throat  Museum,  to  that  gorgeous 
pile  of  pinnacle  and  tower,  with  its  long-drawn  aisles  and  stained  windows, 
'red  with  the  blood  of  kings  and  queens,'  and  quaint  device  and  carved  im- 
agery, and  full  of  glorious  anthems  and  chanted  prayers  !  A  very  shadow, 
I  thought,  of  that  state  of  grandeur  and  glory  into  which  the  gospel  brings 
us — out  of  the  horrid  prison  and  condemned  cell,  and  graveyard  without 

hope." 

****** 

"I  pass  over  the  many  interesting  conversations  held  in  Berlin  with 
Neander,  Uhden,  Kautze. 

"  We  obtained,  however,  little  information  from  them  regarding  the  pre- 
sent state  of  the  Reform  movement.  All  parties  seemed  indifferent  to  it.  All 
parties  rejected  Ronge.  Sydow  called  him  '  ein  ausgeblasener  Narr,'  and 
despised  both  the  man  and  his  opinions,  and  considered  them  only  a  little 
better  than  Popery. 

"  Saturday  morning  we  posted  sixty-two  miles,  to  Schneidemiihl,  where 
we  arrived  the  same  evening  about  eight  o'clock.  We  found  Czersky  wait- 
ing for  us. 

"  Upon  Sabbath  morning,  at  ten,  we  went  to  his  church.  As  we  entered 
the  people  were  singing  one  of  Luther's  hymns,  with — as  is  usual  in  German 
churches — loud  and  harmonious  voices,  led  by  an  organ  and  a  tolerably  good 
choir.  About  120  were  present.  The  passages  and  all  round  the  altar,  were 
strewed  with  flowers,  which  we  learned  afterwards,  was  a  token  of  gladness 
at  seeing  us  amongst  them. 

"  When  the  psalm  was  nearly  concluded  Czersky  entered.  He  was 
dressed  in  priest's  garments  ;  in  a  long  black  cloth  gown,  which  came  down 
to  his  toes  and  was  buttoned  in  front,  and  over  this  a  jacket  of  white  muslin 
beautifully  worked,  with  wide  sleeves,  and  coming  down  to  his  waist.  He 
knelt  and  prayed  in  silence  before  the  crucifix,  and  then  preached. 

"We  held  a  conference  with  the  elders  at  Czersky's  house,  in  the  morning. 
About  twelve  were  present.  The  chief  objects  of  the  meeting  were  to 
ascertain  their  state  of  mind  towards  Czersky,  and  above  all  to  exhort  them 
upon  certain  points  which,  we  believed,  required  the  advice  of  neutral 
parties  in  whose  good-wdll  perfect  confidence  could  be  placed.  Mr.  Herschell 
and  I  spoke  our  minds  fully. 

"  Though  our  conference  lasted  nearly  two  hours,  we  were  listened  to 
throughout  with  the  utmost  patience.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  unless  we 
asked  a  reply.  When  these  replies  were  given,  Czersky  seemed  anxious 
that  we  should  hear  the  opinions  of  his  elders  as  well  as  his  own.  These 
opinions  wrere  most  satisfactory.  From  this  meeting,  and  from  a  private 
conversation  which  I  had  with  Czersky  during  a  short  walk  in  the  fields  on 
Sabbath,  as  well  as  from  familiar  intercourse  with  him  on  the  following 
days,  I  am  convinced  that  there  is  perfect  confidence  placed  in  him  by  his 
people,  and  that  he  is  a  most  simple-hearted,  sincere  man.     Though  he  will 


174  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

never  be  a  great  leader,  lie  will  prove  a  true  witness ;  and  if  he  cannot 
attack,  lie  certainly  will  resist  error.  After  the  meeting  we  remained  and 
took  tea  with  himself  and  his  wife.  We  were  much  struck  with  the  humble 
and  poor  house  in  which  he  lives.  Everything  indicated  a  man  who  had  not 
at  least  made  money  by  his  change. 

"  Our  Sabbath  evening's  work  was  closed  by  a  call  upon  the  old  Lutheran 
minister,  who  was  just  retiring  to  rest.  He  received  us  very  kindly,  was 
frank  and  full  of  good  humour ;  and  while  he  deplored  the  number  of 
churches  in  the  town  instead  of  one  (his  own),  he  bore  the  strongest  testi- 
mony to  Czersky,  declaring  him  to  be,  in  his  opinion,  a  simple,  honourable, 
upright,  pious  man.     This  was  most  satisfactory. 

"  Having  determined  to  take  Czersky  with  us  to  Posen,  we  all  met  next 
morning  in  the  hotel,  and  were  early  on  our  way,  by  courier  post  with  four 
horses.  We  had  a  journey  of  sixty  miles  before  us.  The  day  was  scorch- 
ing. Our  road  lay  along  flat  plains  or  through  forests,  and  poor  Polish 
villages.  It  was  so  sandy  and  rough  that  we  could  not  make  sometimes 
more  than  six  miles  an  hour.  The  whole  of  this  day's  journey  reminded 
me  of  America,  more  especially  when  our  road  lay  through  the  forest. 

"  Post  is,  in  many  respects,  an  abler  man  than  Czersky.  He  is  an  able 
speaker,  has  read  and  thought  much,  and  is  as  firm  a  believer  in  positive 
Christianity  as  Czersky.  Family  worship  is  common  among  his  people. 
His  congregation  numbers  about  740,  old  and  voung. 

"  The  results  of  our  inquiries  into  this  movement  in  Poland  may  thus  be 
summed  up  : — 

"1.  Numbers:  There  are  fifteen  Christian  Catholic  congregations  in 
Poland,  each  numbering  upon  an  average  300  souls,  old  and  young.  The 
numbers  in  four  principal  stations  are,  respectively ,  Posen  745,  Schneidemiihl 
400,  Bromberg  600,  Thorn  400.     Post  has  sometimes  1,000  in  summer. 

"  2.  All  the  clergy  in  Poland  are  for  positive  Christianity,  and  will  have 
nothing  to  do  with  Ronge. 

"  3.  They  are  not  yet  united,  but  wish  to  form  a  Presbytery. 

"  4.  This  movement  should  be  helped  and  strengthened.  The  people  and 
ministers  are  poor.  They  could  get  on  better  by  joining  the  Established 
Church ;  but  they  desire  church  freedom,  and  they  think  that  they  are  in  a 
better  position  to  act  as  a  Mission,  having  reference  to  the  Church  of  Rome, 
than  if  they  were  to  become  absorbed  in  the  State  Church. 

"  We  left  Posen  on  Thursday  morning,  and  slept  that  night  at  Lissa,  half 
way  to  Breslau.     We  reached  Breslau  in  the  evening  of  Eriday. 

"  We  determined  to  drive  out  next  day  to  Hiinen,  to  see  Dr.  Theiner, 
whom  all  parties  acknowledge  to  be  the  most  learned  and  able  man  con- 
nected with  this  movement.  He  was  out  walking  when  we  arrived.  His 
old  servant,  however,  went  for  him,  while  we  sat  beneath  the  shade  of  some 
orange-trees  in  the  little  flower-garden. 

"  By-and-by  we  saw  approaching,  with  cpiick  steps,  a  man  of  the  ordinary 
size,  upwards  of  fifty,  with  a  long  German  surtout,  a  cap  with  large  scoop, 
spectacles,  and  his  long  hair,  sprinkled  with  grey,  flowing  behind.  He 
ushered  us  into  a  large  room,  which,  in  its  thorough  confusion,  reminded  us 
of  Neander's — chairs  and  tables,  covered  with  books,  and  the  whole  room 
as  if  it  was  the  temporary  receptacle  for  a  library  hastily  carried  into  it, 
along  with  some  furniture,  dining  a  tire.     The  first  look  of  Theiner  filled 


EVANGELICAL    ALLIANCE.  175 

me  with  confidence  and  affection  ;  the  large  manly  brow,  the  twinkling 
black  eyes  and  gentle  smile,  every  feature  expressive  of  eagerness,  thought, 
tenderness,  and  simplicity.  He  gave  us  his  opinion  fully  and  frankly.  He 
spoke  of  Ronge  with  unmeasured  terms  of  contempt  as  '  ein  nichlwiirdir/es, 
elendes  Geschup/.'  He  spoke  of  Czersky  and  Post  with  the  greatest  respect, 
declaring  his  conviction  that  they  were  honest  men.  His  own  position  now 
was  one  of  literary  activity. 

"  In  the  evening  of  Sabbath  I  heard  Eonge.  After  reading  a  few  cold, 
formal  prayers,  he  commenced  his  sermon.  His  delivery  is  lifeless,  without 
fire  in  eye  or  action  ;  hesitating,  uninteresting.  One  was  puzzled  more  and 
more  to  discover  what  the  elements  were  in  this  man  which  could  rouse 
the  populace. 

"  I  expected  to  have  met  Ronge  according  to  appointment  in  the  evening, 
but  he  sent  an  apology  by  his  friend,  Dr.  Beusch,  with  whom  we  had  a 
very  long  conversation  and  dispute.  His  opinions,  like  those  of  Ronge,  are 
ultra-rationalistic — or  rather,  pantheistic  ;  and  it  was  hardly  possible  to  get 
a  common  standing  ground.  The  whole  system  seemed  to  be  a  mixture  of 
socialism  and  Deism  gilded  with  the  morality  of  the  Bible,  and  having  a 
strong  political  tendency  towards  communism. 

"  Such  is  Ronge-ism.  It  is  bad,  but  who  is  to  blame1?  Popery  first.  It 
is  evident  that  the  whole  of  this  false  system  is  a  reaction  from  Popery ; 
that  it  has  been  moulded  into  its  present  form  in  the  conscious  presence  of 
Popery.  The  materialism  of  the  one  has  given  birth  to  the  anti-symbolical 
and  attempted  spiritualism  of  the  other.  What  the  result  is  to  be,  no  one 
can  tell.  It  cannot  stand  as  it  is.  It  must.advance  to  Quakerism  and 
Spiritual  Pietism,  and  end  in  Socialism,  or  its  serious  people  be  absorbed  in 
a  deeper  and  more  evangelical  movement.  There  does  not  appear  to  be 
connected  with  this  part  of  the  movement  one  man  capable  of  giving  it  a 
good  direction.  One  has*  only  to  hope  that  the  Bible  and  hymn-book  may 
help  to  save  some  of  the  poor  people,  who,  I  doubt  not,  are  better  than 
their  ministers. 

"  I  have  now,  within  two  years,  seen  the  practical  working  of  various 
Churches,  and  come  into  contact  with  the  clergy  of  various  denominations. 
I  have  seen  the  war  of  weak  sects  in  the  backwoods  and  lonely  settlements 
of  the  Colonies,  and  Voluntaryism  in  its  poverty  and  in  its  grandeur  in  the 
United  States.  I  have  watched  well  the  temper  and  the  tendency  of  the 
Free  Church  in  Scotland,  especially  in  the  Highlands.  I  have  met  in  the 
freest  and  most  friendly  communion,  for  days  together,  the  Dissenters  of 
England  at  the  Evangelical  Alliance.  I  have  examined  the  workings  of 
Episcopacy  during  a  year's  residence  in  England.  I  have  seen  Popery  in 
every  part  of  Germany  from  Vienna  to  Berlin,  in  France  and  Belgium, 
Ireland  and  America.  I  have  examined  into  the  German  Church,  and  the 
result  of  all  has  been  to  deepen  my  attachment  to  my  own  Church — to  fill 
me  with  unfeigned  gratitude  to  God  for  the  Protestant  Evangelical  Presby- 
terian Established  Church  of  Scotland.  It  is  Protestant,  without  any 
toleration  of  Popish  error  within  its  bosom.  It  is  Evangelical,  and  ecpially 
removed  from  formal  orthodoxy,  or  canting  methodism,  or  icy  rationalism. 
It  is  Presbyterian,  and  in  possession  of  a  free  and  vigorous  government 
which  occupies  a  middle  point  between  the  power  of  one  bishop  or  of  one 
congregation.     It  is  Established,  and  so  not  dependent  ioi  its  support  on 


176  LIFE  OF  NORMAX  MACLEOD. 

the  people,  -while,  for  the  discharge  of  all  the  functions  of  a  Christian 
Church,  independent  of  civil  government  by  virtue  of  her  constitution. 
"What  want  we  then  1  Nothing  but  the  power  of  the  living  Spirit  of  God, 
to  enable  ministers,  elders,  and  people  to  use  the  high  talents  God  has  given 
us  for  the  good  of  Scotland,  of  the  Christian  Church,  and  all  to  the  glory  of 
God.  'If  I  forget  thee,  Oh  Jerusalem,  may  my  right  hand  forget  her 
running  1' " 


A 


CHAPTER    XII. 

LAST    YEARS    AT    DALKEITH. 

1848—1851. 

S  this  chapter  must  embrace  the  close  of  his  ministry  in  Dalkeith, 
it  affords  a  fitting  occasion  for  forming  an  estimate  of  the  in- 
fluences which  then  affected  his  views  and  character.  It  was  a  time 
of  mental  growth  more  than  of  literary  or  public  work.  He  had  more 
leisure  for  study  than  he  ever  afterwards  possessed.  His  travels  in 
America  and  on  the  Continent,  and  his  intercourse  with  representatives 
of  almost  every  variety  of  Church,  had  enlarged  his  sympathies,  and 
given  him  a  living  grasp  of  the  questions  at  that  time  affecting 
Christendom.  His  spiritual  life  also,  chiefly  from  the  care  with  which 
he  cultivated  devout  habits,  became  higher  and  more  even  in  tone. 

The  two  men  who  had  most  influence  on  his  opinions  were  Thomas 
Arnold,  and  his  own  relative,  John  Macleod  Campbell.  Arnold's  Life 
had  just  been  published,  and  the  manliness,  the  healthy  common  sense, 
the  unswerving  truthfulness  and  Christian  faithfulness  of  the  great 
Head  Master  of  Rugby,  touched  him  profoundly ;  while  the  struggle 
which  the  book  recounted  against  the  sacerdotal  pretensions  of  the 
"  Young  Oxford"  school,  on  the  one  hand,  and  against  the  narrower 
section  of  the  "  Evangelicals,"  on  the  other,  had  more  than  a  historical 
interest  for  him ;  for  these  two  extremes,  under  different  outward 
forms,  were  equally  loud-voiced  in  Scotland,  and  in  Arnold's  writings 
he  found  a  copious  armoury  for  the  defence  of  his  own  position  at 
home. 

John  Macleod  Campbell  was  in  many  respects  a  contrast  to  Arnold. 
If  the  latter  was  clear  and  trenchant,  the  former  was  meditative,  ab- 
stract, profound,  almost  to  obscurity.  Even  when  Norman  was_  a 
student,  Campbell  used  to  have  long  and  earnest  conversations  with  him 
in  his  lodgings.  He  was  then  minister  of*  Row,  and  involved  in  those 
controversies  which  issued  in  his  lamented  deposition — an  act  almost 
barbarous  in  its  intolerance,  and  by  which  the  Church  deprived  herself 
of  one  of  the  greatest  theological  minds,  as  well  as  one  of  the  holiest 
characters  she  ever  possessed.  The  intimacy  between  the  two  cousins 
had  of  late  years  become  closer,  and  it  continued  to  deepen  to  the  last 

12 


178  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

hour  of  their  lives.  Campbell  had  a  greater  influence  on  Norman's 
views  than  any  other  theologian  living  or  dead,  and  was  reverenced  by 
him  as  being  the  most  heavenly-minded  man  he  ever  knew.  There  was 
no  one  at  whose  feet  he  was  more  willing  to  sit  and  learn.  Campbell's 
influence  was  not,  however,  so  positive  and  direct  then  as  it  afterwards 
became.  His  great  work  on  the  Atonement  was  not  yet  published.  A 
little  book,  called  "  Fragments  of  Exposition/'  written  partly  by  him 
and  partly  by  his  friend,  the  late  thoughtful  and  accomplished  Profes- 
sor Scott  of  Manchester,  was  the  chief  contribution  Campbell  had  as 
yet  made  to  the  theology  of  the  day.  But  his  conversation  was  rich 
in  suggestive  ideas,  which  had  a  great  effect  in  determining  the  ten- 
dency of  Norman's  theology. 

There  was  one  style  of  teaching  which  was  especially  characteristic  of 
his  later  ministry  in  Dalkeith,  and  of  his  earlier  time  in  the  Barony.  He 
felt  that  the  metaphysical  and  doctrinal  preaching  which  was  still  preva- 
lent in  Scotland,  had  led  men  to  deal  with  abstractions,  ideas,  names, 
rather  than  with  the  living  God ;  and  so  he  tried  to  produce  a  greater 
sense  of  the  personal  relationship  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  The 
dealings  of  an  earthly  father  with  his  child  were  continually  used  to 
illustrate  what  the  Heavenly  Father  must,  in  a  far  higher  sense,  feel 
.and  do ;  and  he  evermore  pressed  his  hearers  to  entertain  the  same 
trust  and  confidence  towards  Christ,  as  would  have  been  proper  and 
natural  had  He  been  present  in  the  flesh.  Such  tender  thoughts  of 
the  Father  and  the  Son  found  fullest  expression  in  his  prayers,  which, 
while  most  reverent,  were  so  real  that  they  sounded  as  if  spoken  to 
One  visibly  present.  Their  perfect  simplicity  never  degenerated  into 
familiarity.  Their  dignity  was  as  remarkable  as  their  directness. 
These  views  had  also  a  marked  influence  on  his  character.  What  the 
Personal  Christ  must  love  or  hate  became  the  one  rule  of  life.  This 
divine  love  inspired  a  deep  "  enthusiasm  of  humanity."  He  seemed 
to  yearn  over  men  in  the  very  spirit  of  Christ — so  patient,  con- 
siderate, and  earnest,  was  he,  in  seeking  their  good. 

His  sermons  at  this  time  conveyed  the  impression  of  greater  elabora- 
tion than  those  of  his  later  years.  One  remarkable  characteristic  was 
the  restraint  he  put  on  the  descriptive  faculty  with  which  he  was  so 
richly  endowed.  He  could  very  easily  have  produced  great  popular 
effect  by  indulging  in  pictorial  illustration,  but  he  held  this  in  strict 
subordination  to  the  one  purpose  of  impressing  the  conscience  ,  and 
even  then,  the  touches  of  imagination  or  of  pathos,  which  so  often 
thrilled  his  audience,  were  commonly  limited  to  a  sentence,  or  a  phrase. 

There  were  other  men,  besides  Arnold  and  Campbell,  who  more  or 
less  influenced  his  views  at  this  time.  There  was  Struthers,  the 
author  of  "  The  Sabbath" — a  rare  specimen  of  the  old  Scotch  Cove- 
nanter, stern  but  tender,  of  keen  intellect  and  unbending  principle, 
and  full  of  contempt  for  the  nineteenth  century.  Norman  took  great 
delight  in  exciting  Struthers  to  talk  on  some  congenial  home,  to  de- 
scribe, with    shrill  voice   and  pithy  Scotch,  the  good  delt  days,  to 


LAST   YEAItS  AT  DALKEITH.  179 

denounce  with  indignation  the  degeneracies  and  backslidinga  of 
modern  times,  to  anathematize  Voluntaryism  as  practical  Atheism, 
and  declare  Sabbath  schools  "  the  greatest  curse  the  Almighty  ever 
sent  to  this  covenanted  land — undermining  family  life  and  destroying 
the  parental  tie."  If  there  was  exaggeration,  there  was  also  good  sense 
in  many  of  Struthers'  reflections,  especially  as  to  the  past  and  present 
of  the  working  classes.  He  had  been  himself  an  operative  for  many 
years,  and  his  remarks  on  questions  affecting  the  working  classes  were 
hot  lost  on  his  hearer.  In  contrast  to  Struthers  there  was  John  Camp- 
buu  ohairp,  now  the  well-known  Principal  of  St.  Andrew's,  who,  re- 
cently returned  from  Oxford,  and  full  of  enthusiastic  memories  of  the 
men  and  the  opinions  then  influencing  the  finer  minds  of  the  Univer- 
sity, made  Norman  feel  as  if  he  had  personally  knowaNewman,  Stanley, 
Jowett,  and  Clough.  Shairp,  with  his  keen  sympathetic  temperament, 
was,  moreover,  so  saturated  with  many  of  the  new  views,  and  so 
earnest  in  his  search  after  truth,  that  he  stimulated  his  friend  to  study 
many  subjects  in  which  he  would  otherwise  have  taken  little  interest. 
John  Mackintosh,  also,  his  deep-souled  and  dearest  friend,  then  prepar- 
ing, after  his  Cambridge  career,  for  the  ministry  of  the  Free  Church, 
was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  Manse,  and  by  his  conversation,  as  well 
as  by  his  letters  when  travelling  in  Italy  and  Germany,  inspired  the 
very  atmosphere  of  poetry  and  literature  which  he  was  himself  breath- 
ing. 

To  this  list  the  name  of  another  must  be  added,  who  touched  more 
closely  on  his  life  as  a  minister  of  the  Church  of  Scotland.  Ever 
since  the  Disruption  Norman  had  mourned  the  deadness  of  the 
Church,  and  deplored  the  lack  of  men  fit  to  guide  its  councils  or 
quicken  its  life;  but  in  Professor  James  Robertson  he  found  one 
who  had  both  head  and  heart  to  be  a  Church  leader.  With  a  keen 
intellect,  great  power  as  a  debater,  and  a  singular  grasp  of  principles 
— an  enthusiast  in  philosophy  as  in  theology — he  was,  withal,  simple 
as  a  child  towards  God,  true  and  loving  towards  man,  and  heroic  in 
self-sacrificing  devotion  with  which  he  laboured  for  the  Christian 
welfare  of  his  country.  He  was  a  patriot  more  than  a  Churchman  ; 
and,  in  supporting  him,  Norman  felt  he  was  following  no  narrow  eccle- 
siastic, but  one  who  had  regard  to  the  good  of  the  nation  as  the  grand 
aim  of  a  National  Church,  and  whose  warm  heart  beat  with  a  coura- 
geous and  generous  faith.  Robertson  was  just  beginning  his  appeal  to 
the  Church  and  country  for  the  endowment  of  150  parishes.  His  aim 
seemed  Utopian  to  the  timid  minds  of  many,  who  could  not  believe 
that  the  Church,  so  recently  shattered,  could  be  roused  to  the  accom- 
plishment of  such  a  work ;  but  to  others,  the  boldness  of  the  proposal 
was  one  of  its  chief  recommendations.  Norman  and  he  became  attached 
friends.  Long  were  the  hours  of  friendly  discussion  they  enjoyed, 
lasting  far  into  night,  when  the  conversation  would  range  from 
criticism  of  Fichte,  of  whose  philosophy  Robertson  was  an  enthusiastic 
admirer,  to  questions  of  expediency  touching  some  "  overture"  to  the 


180  LIFE  OF  NOMMAN  MACLEOD. 

Assembly.    Robertson  was  the  only  man  Norman  ever  regarded  as  his 
ecclesiastical  leader. 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"What  precise  relation  does  revelation  without  bear  to  revelation  within — 
the  book  to  the  conscience  1 

"  Is  anything  a  revelation  to  me  which  is  not  actually  a  revealing — a 
making  known  to  me,  or,  in  other  words,  which  is  not  recognized  as  true 
by  me  'I 

"  Do  I  believe  any  spiritual  truth  in  the  Book,  except  in  so  far  as  I  see 
it  to  be  true  in  conscience  and  reason  1  Is  my  faith  in  the  outward  revela- 
tion not  in  exact  proportion  to  my  inward  perception  of  the  truth  uttered 
in  the  letter? 

"  Wherein  lies  the  difference  between  assenting  to  the  Principia  of  New- 
ton, because  written  by  a  great  mathematician  and  not  because  I  see  them 
to  be  true,  and  my  assenting  to  the  Bible,  because  written  by  inspired  men 
and  not  because  I  see  how  truly  they  spoke  1 

"  Whether  do  I  honour  Newton  more  by  examining,  sifting,  and  seeing 
for  myself  the  truth  of  his  propositions,  or  by  merely  taking  them  on  his 
word  % 

"  Can  any  revelation  coining  from  without,  be  so  strong  as  a  revelation 
from  spirit  to  spirit  1  Could  any  amount  of  outward  authority  be  morally 
sufficient  to  make  me  hate  a  friend,  or  do  any  action  I  felt  to  be  morally 
wrong  while  apprehending  it  to  be  wrong1?  It  might  correct  me  as  to  facta 
which  depend  entirely  upon  testimony  and  not  upon  spiritual  truth. 

"...  I  have  just  received  some  merry  thoughts  from  a  blue-bell, 
which  out  of  gratitude  I  record. 

"  How  long  has  that  bell  been  ringing  its  fragrant  music,  and  swinging 
forth  its  unheard  melodies  among  brackens  and  briars,  and  primroses  and 
woodroof,  and  that  world  of  poetic  wild  scents  and  forms — so  many — so 
beautiful — which  a  tangled  bank  over  a  trotting  burn  among  the  leafy 
woods  discloses  1  Spirits  more  beautiful  than  fairies  behold  those  scenes,  or 
they  would  be  waste.  That  bell  was  ringing  merrily  in  the  breeze  when 
Adam  and  Eve  were  married.  It  chimed  its  dirge  over  Abel,  and  has  died 
and  sprung  up  again  while  Nineveh  and  Babylon  have  come  and  gone,  and 
empires  have  lived  and  died  forever  !  Solomon,  in  all  his  glory,  was  not 
like  thee. 

"  What  an  evidence  have  I  in  this  blue  drooping  flower,  of  the  regularity 
niid  endurance  of  God's  will  since  creation's  dawn  !  Amidst  all  revolutions 
of  heaven  and  earth  ;  hurricanes  and  earthquakes  ;  floods  and  fires ;  inva- 
sions and  dispersions ;  signs  in  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars ;  perplexity  and 
distress  of  nations;  nothing  has  happened  to  injure  this  fragile  blue-bell. 
It  has  been  preserved  throughout  all  generations.  The  forces  of  this  stormy 
and  troubled  earth,  which  have  rent  rocks,  have  been  so  beautifully  adjusted 
from  age  to  age,  that  this  head,  though  drooping,  has  not  been  broken,  and 
this  stalk,  though  frail,  still  stands  erect.  This  is  '  central  peace  subsisting 
at  the  heart  of  endless  agitation.' 

"  The  blue-bell  swung  in  breezes  tempered  to  its  strength  centuries  before 
the  children  of  Japheth  spied  the  chalky  cliffs  of  Dover.  It  has  been  called 
by  many  a  name  from  the  days  of  the  painted  warrior  to  the  days  of  Burns  ; 


LAST  YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  LSI 

but  ifc  lias  ever  been  the  same.  It  will  sing  on  with  its  own  woodland  mu- 
sic to  all  who  can  hear  its  spirit-song,  until  time  shall  be  no  more.  The 
blue-bell  may  sing  the  funeral  knell  of  the  human  race. 

"  If  there  be  no  enduring  spirit  in  man,  no  flowers  of  immortality  more 
lasting  than  the  flowers  of  earth,  verily  all  flesh  is  more  worthless  than 
grass. 

•'April. — It  is  curious  to  compare  old  and  new  maps,  and  to  mark  the 
progress  of  discovery.  The  blank  space  of  ocean  is  followed  by  a  faint  out- 
line of  a  few  miles  of  coast,  marking  the  termination  of  an  intrepid  voyager. 
Then  further  portions  of  the  same  coast  are  laid  down  at  intervals  as  sup- 
posed islands.  Then,  by-and-by,  those  portions  are  connected,  and  the  out- 
line of  a  great  continent  begins  to  be  developed.  The  'undiscovered'  passes 
to  the  region  of  the  known  and  familiar.  Then  follow  the  exploring  of  bays, 
the  tracing  of  rivers,  and  the  inland  discoveries  of  mountain,  plain,  wood, 
and  pasturage,  until  at  last  we  have  an  Australia  mapped  into  settlements, 
dotted  with  towns  and  villages,  divided  into  bishoprics  and  parishes,  inhabited 
by  old  friends  as  prosperous  emigrants,  issuing  its  newspapers,  and  becoming 
an  important  member  of  the  great  family  of  man.  Thus  is  it  with  the 
Bible.  What  progress  is  being  made  in  the  discovery  of  its  meaning !  How 
much  better  acquainted  is  the  Church  of  Christ  now  with  its  spirit,  its  allusions, 
its  inner  and  outer  history,  than  the  same  Church  during  any  former  period  ! 
What  far  more  true  and  just  idea  of  the  mind  of  Christ,  as  manifested  in 
and  by  the  Apostolic  Church,  have  we  now  than  the  Church  of  the  fourth 
and  fifth  centuries  possessed?  Distance  has  increased  the  magnitude, 
extent,  the  totality  and  grandexir  in  the  heaven-kissing  mountain  range. 
Individually,  I  find  in  daily  study  of  the  Bible,  a  daily  discovery.  What 
was  formerly  unknown  becomes  known,  and  what  seemed  a  solitary  coast 
becomes  part  of  a  great  whole,  and  what  seemed  wild,  and  strange,  and  lonely, 
becomes  to  me  green  pasture  and  refreshing  water — the  abode  of  my  fireside 
affections.  And  surely  I  shall  read  the  Bible  as  an  alphabet  in  Heaven.  It 
was  my  first  school-book  here,  and  I  hope  it  will  be  my  first  there.  What ! 
shall  I  never  know  the  Spirit  which  moves  the  wheels,  whose  rims  are  so 
high  that  they  are  dreadful? 

"The  only  true  theory  of  development  is  the  development  of  the  spiritual 
eye  for  the  reception  of  that  light  which  ever  shineth." 

"  Cravfurcl  Priory,  May  11th. — I  leant  against  a  great  tall  pine  to-day. 
The  trunk  moved  as  the  top  waved  in  the  wind.  The  many-branched  top 
with  its  leaves,  useless,  albeit,  was  dependent  on  the  rooted  stem;  it  'moved 
all  together,  if  it  moved  at  all.'  But  was  not  the  stem  dependent  on  the  top 
also?  Had  the  top  been  cut  off,  how  long  would  the  stem  have  been  of 
becoming  rotten?  Let  the  people  beware  how  they  brag  about  the  roots, 
and  the  dependence  of  the  uppermost  branches  upon  them.  All  is  a  goodly 
tree.  May  it  only  be  the  planting  of  the  Lord !  That  so  being  it  may  bring 
forth  the  fruits  of  righteousness. 

".  .  .  .  Christ's  love  is  not  His  life,  death,  resurrection,  ascension,  pro- 
mises. It  is  that  in  which  they  all  live,  move,  and  have  their  being;  and 
my  faith  in  His  love  is  a  higher  thing  than  faith  in  anything  whereby  He 
manifests  it.  It  is  faith  in  Himself — in  what  He  is,  and  not  merely  in  what 
He  does." 

The  political  disturbances  on  the  Continent  during  18*18  had,  of 


182  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

course,  great  interest  for  him;  but  he  was  struck  still  more  by  th« 
outburst  of  discontent  at  home,  as  revealing  a  condition  of  society  for 
which  the  Church  of  Christ  was  in  a  great  measure  responsible.  His 
impressions  on  this  subject  were  deepened  by  what  he  saw  when  lie 
was  in  Glasgow  during  a  serious  riot.  Suddenly  the  leading  thorough- 
fares were  swept  by  a  torrent  of  men  and  women  of  a  type  utterly 
different  from  the  ordinary  poor.  Haggard,  abandoned,  ferocious,  they 
issued  from  the  neglected  haunts  of  misery  and  crime,  drove  the  police 
into  their  headquarters,  and,  for  a  while  took  possession  of  the  streets. 
In  this  spectacle  Norman  recognized  the  sin  of  the  Churches  which 
had  permitted  the  growth  of  such  an  ignorant,  wretched,  and  dangerous 
population.  There  was  no  horror  perpetrated  during  the  first  French 
Eevolution  that  he  did  not  believe  might  have  been  repeated  by  the 
mob  he  saw  in  Glasgow;  and  although  the  Chartist  movement  was 
connected  with  a  very  different  class  of  the  community,  it  also  suggested 
serious  thoughts  as  to  the  future  of  the  country,  and  the  duty  incum- 
bent on  the  Church. 

"April,  1848. 
"The  Chartists  are  put  down.  Good!  Good  for  jewellers'  shops  and 
'  Special'  heads  ;  good,  as  giving  peace  and  security.  Each  one  on  Ken- 
nington  Common  might  have  spoken  Bottom's  intended  prologue  for  Snug 
in  his  character  of  Lion.  '  Ladies,  or  fair  ladies,  I  would  wish  you,  or  en- 
treat you,  not  to  fear,  not  to  tremble  :  my  life  for  yours*  If  you  think  I 
come  hither  as  a  lion,  it  were  pity  of  my  life.  No,  I  am  no  such  thing. 
/  am  a  man  as  other  men  are  ; — and  there,  indeed  (quoth  Bottom),  let  him 
name  his  name,  and  tell  them  plainly  he  is  Snug,  the  joiner.'  But  this 
same  Snug,  the  joiner,  though  no  lion,  is  still  a  man  as  other  men  are — and 
so  is  each  of  the  10,000  or  20,000,  or,  according  to  common  computation, 
200,000,  Snugs  on  Kennington  Common — each  a  man  like  other  men, 
each  having  a  body  finely  fashioned  and  tempered,  which  in  rags  shivers  in 
the  cold,  while  the  '  Special'  goes  to  his  fireside,  with  triumph  draws  in  his 
chair,  saying,  '  the  scoundrels  are  put  down  ;' — a  body  that  can  gnaw  from 
hunger,  and  has  not  perhaps  tasted  food  for  twenty -four  hours,  wdiile  my  re- 
spected and  rather  corpulent  friend,  the  good  '  Special,'  growls  that  he  will 
be  kept  from  dinner,  and  can  only  take  a  hurried  lunch  in  the  club,  John 
taking  charge  of  his  baton.  Kay,  honest  Snug  has  a  heart ,  his  friend  Nick 
Bottom,  the  weaver,  has  his  Thisbe  at  home,  whom  he  loves,  and  though  he 
is  an  ass,  his  wife  loves  him  as  much  as  Titania  ever  did  his  namesake. 
Does  the  '  Special '  love  Mrs.  Smith,  and  the  young  Smiths,  more  than 
those  do  Mrs.  Snug  and  Mrs.  Bottom,  and  the  young  Snugs  and  the  young 
Bottoms  ]  The  Nell  of  the  one  and  the  Joan  of  the  other  think  more  of 
those  same  scoundrel  Chartists  than  of  all  the  world  beside.  Each  clot  in 
that  huge  mass  on  Kennington  Common  is  the  centre,  the  only  one,  perhaps, 
of  household  admiration.  Daddy  Special,  thou  art  a  good,  kind  soul  of  a 
father  and  a  husband — thou  wouldst  not  crush  the  cat's  paw  with  thy  baton 
— didst  thou  know  poor  Snug  and  Bottom,  thou  wouldst  not  show  thy 
family  the  way  to  break  their  heads.  These  are  men  like  thyself,  not  lions. 
Tli  sy  are  men,  and  so  responsible  and  immortal  beings.  It  is  this  winch 
in  vkes  the  heart  bleed,  and  which  makes  us  hear  with  anxious  spirit  the 


LAST  YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  183 

news  of  all  that  these  men  wish,  say,  try,  and  accomplish,  and  all  that  is 
done  to  put  them  down. 

"  We  demand  from  them  patience  while  starving — do  we  meet  their 
demands  for  bread]  We  demand  from  them  obedience  to  law — do  we 
teach  them  what  they  are  to  obey  1  We  demand  from  them  love  of  man — 
have  we  taught  them  the  love  of  God  1  What  is  the  nation  to  do  for  these 
men,  who  made  the  nation  anxious,  and  the  Exchange  of  the  woihl  oscillate 
— and  the  hero  of  a  hundred  fights  put  on  his  armour  1  Here  in  the  midst 
of  us  is  a  mighty  power,  felt,  acknowledged — what  is  doing  to  make  it  a 
power  for  good  1  Put  down  !  It  is  the  putting  down  of  a  maniac,  not  his 
cure ;  and  what  if  the  maniacs  increase  and  obtain  a  majority,  and  put 
down  the  keepers !  Special  !  what  hast  thou  ever  done  for  thy  brother  1 
Ay — don't  stare  at  me  or  at  thy  baton — thy  brother,  I  say  !  Now  don't 
get  sulky ;  I  am  not  ungrateful  to  thee,  nor  am  I  disposed  to  fraternize 
with  Duffy  and  O'Connor,  though  I  call  Snug  and  Bottom  brothers.  But, 
I  ask,  hast  thou  ever  concerned  thyself  about  thy  poor  brother — how  he  was 
to  be  fed  and  clothed — or  if  neither,  how  he  was  to  endure  1  How  he  was 
to  be  tainrht  his  duties  to  God  and  man — and,  if  not,  how  he  was  to  be  a 
loyal  subject  to  Queen  Victoria,  and  a  supporter  of  the  Bench  of  Bishops  % 
Honestly,  friend — hast  thou  ever  taken  as  much  thought  about  him  as  thou 
hast  taken  in  thy  kindness  about  thyself  and  myself,  in  defending  us  on  the 
1  Oth  1  Hast  thou  ever  troubled  thyself  about  healing  his  broken  heart  as 
thou  has  about  giving  him  a  broken  head  1  And  yet  thou  art  not  a  bad 
man,  but  a  good,  kind  soul.     But,  friend,  we  are  all  forgetful,  and  all  selfish  ! 

"  Selfish  !  This  lies  at  the  root  of  the  whole  evil,  as  it  lies  at  the  root, 
indeed,  of  all  evil.  That  a  great  evil  exists  in  the  present  state  of  our 
country  is  certain.  Where  shall  we  see  such  poverty  and  ignorance,  with 
their  results  of  misery  and  discontent  and  readiness  to  attempt  anything  to 
get  quit  of  both,  as  in  our  free  and  Christian  country  1  Everywhere  the 
same — every  town,  every  village,  has  its  ignorant  and  wretched  men.  The 
bees  who  fly  about  the  hive,  and  buzz  and  sting,  and  die  in  the  snow  in 
winter,  during  some  momentary  sunshine,  are  few  in  comparison  with  those 
who  remain  torpid  and  dying  from  cold  and  exhaustion  in  the  unknown  and 
unseen  cells.  The  ignorance  of  masses  of  our  people  is  unknown  to  all  but 
those  who,  like  myself,  come  into  contact  with  them.  I  can,  at  this  mo- 
ment, mention  four  parents  who  came  to  me  for  baptism,  who  were  as 
ignorant  as  heathen,  never  having  heard  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  knowing  noth- 
ing of  God  or  immortality.  Everywhere  pest  and  canker — spreading,  deep- 
ening, increasing — and,  unless  cured  in  God's  way,  punishing — terribly  and 
righteously  punishing — in  God's  way.  Principle  and  self-interest  prompt 
the  same  question — what  shall  we  do1? — where  is  the  cure1? 

"  Is  the  cure  less  taxation  1  How  this,  when  thousands  of  your  most 
dangerous  men  tax  themselves  70  per  cent,  for  drink  !  Is  the  cure  high 
wages  1  Ask  the  manufacturer  if  his  safe  men  and  true  men  are  generally 
among  those  who  have  high  wages.  Is  the  cure  school  instruction  1  But 
what  security  of  any  good  have  we  in  mere  intellect  without  God  1  More 
churches]  Get  your  men  first  who  will  enter  them.  More  ministers? 
Neither  can  cure  poverty,  and  ministers  must  be  good  and  wise.  Suffrage1? 
Humbug. 

"  Not  one  of  these  is  itself  sufficient,  but  all  are  good  when  taken  to- 


181  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

getlier.  We  must  have  schools,  and  any  schools  better  than  none,  any 
education  better,  infinitely  better,  than  none.  But  not  to  dwell  upon  what 
all  admit  and  feel,  yet  I  would  ask,  why  is  not  each  factory  compelled  to 
have  its  large  school  and  its  large  church  ]  Both  to  be  for  the  workmen. 
Let  the  church  be  threefold — Popish,  Episcopalian,  and  Presbyterian,  and 
let  there  be  no  fixed  minister,  but  let  the  clergy  in  the  town  take  time 
about  in  the  evenings,  too,  and  none  admitted  but  in  working  clothes. 

"  Yet  there  is  to  me  a  more  excellent  way,  and  that  is  love  !  The  true 
and  only  cure  seems  to  me  to  lie  in  the  personal  and  regular  communion  of 
the  better  with  the  worse — man  with  man —  until  each  Christian,  like  his 
Saviour,  becomes  one  with  those  who  are  to  be  saved ;  until  he  can  be  bone 
of  their  bone,  sympathize,  teach,  weep,  rejoice,  eat  and  drink  with  them  as 
one  with  them  in  the  flesh.  The  world  will  not  believe  because  it  cannot 
see  that  Christianity  is  true,  by  seeing  its  reality  in  the  marvellous  oneness 
of  Christ  and  people. 

"  The  world,  if  ever  it  is  to  be  reformed  by  men  and  through  men,  can 
only  be  so  by  the  personal  intercourse  of  living  men — living  epistles,  not 
dead  ones.  Love,  meekness  and  kindness,  forbearance,  unselfishness,  man- 
ifested in  human  souls,  uttering  themselves  by  word,  look  and  deed,  and  net 
by  mere  descriptions  of  these  sentiments  or  essays  upon  them,  can  alone 
regenerate  man.  The  living  Church  is  more  than  the  dead  Bible,  for  it  is 
the  Bible  and  something  more.  It  is  the  Bible  alive.  It  is  its  effect,  its 
evidence,  its  embodiment.  God  has  alwavs  dealt  through  living  men  with 
men,  and  He  Himself  deals  with  them  through  a  Personal  Spirit.  When 
Christ  left  the  world  He  did  so  that  He  might  forever  dwell  in  it  in  His 
people. 

"  Neither  money  nor  schools  nor  tracts  nor  churches  can  ever  be  substituted 
for  living  men.  It  is  this  we  want.  It  is  this  the  lanes  and  closes  want. 
Not  ministers  merely  going  their  rounds  like  policemen  with  black  clothes 
and  white  neckcloths  ;  nor  elders  taking  statistics,  nor  deacons  giving  alms, 
or  ladies  tracts — all  good  (what  should  we  have  been  without  these,  the 
only  salt  hitherto !) ;  but  we  want  Christians,  whether  they  be  smiths  or 
shoemakers,  or  tailors  or  grocers,  or  coach-drivers  or  advocates,  to  remember 
their  own  responsibilities,  their  immense  influence  for  good,  and  to  be 
personal  ministers  for  good.  The  separation  outwardly  of  society  is  terrible. 
Only  see  the  old  and  new  Town  of  Edinburgh  !  What  a  type  of  British 
society  !  It  used  not  to  be  so.  In  the  old  town  and  in  olden  times  families 
of  different  grades  used  to  live  in  the  same  tenement,  and  poor  and  rich 
were  thus  mingled  together  in  their  habitation  and  in  then-  joys.  So  is  it 
now  in  many  villages,  and  in  many  parts  of  the  country.  But  generally 
there  is  a  wide  separation,  bridged  over  by  tracts,  or  societies,  or  money 
(sparingly) ;  but  not  by  the  living  Church  of  Christ.  The  full  heart  and 
the  full  mind  do  not  meet  to  empty  themselves  (thereby  becoming  fuller) 
into  the  void  heart  and  the  void  mind.  "We  have  words  on  the  philosophy 
of  life,  instead  of  life  itself.  We  are  selfish,  I  say,  and  willing  to  pay  for  it 
rather  than  to  part  from  it.  We  subscribe  for  volumes  of  music  instead  of 
breathing  forth,  in  the  habitations  of  sad  and  bad  men,  'the  still  music  of 
humanity.'  When  shall  we  learn  to  imitate,  or  rather  to  share,  the  love  of 
Him  who  was  love  itself,  who,  '  knowing  that  all  things  were  given  Him  of 
the  Father,  that  He  came  from  Cod  and  went  to  Cod,' — what  then'? — Oh 


LAST  YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  185 

marvellous  condescension,  because  marvellous  love, — 'girded  Himself  with 
a  towel  and  washed  the  disciples'  feet !' 

"  The  question  in  regard  to  elevating  man  is  not  so  much  what  is  good 
for  him,  as  how  the  good  is  to  be  given  to  him.  Wl\at  he  should  have  must 
correspond  to  what  he  needs.  As  an  animal  and  in  the  body  he  needs  food 
and  clothing,  air  and  light,  and  water  and  exercise  ;  as  a  social  being  he 
needs  society ;  as  a  sentient  being  he  needs  things  pleasing  to  the  senses ; 
as  an  active  being  he  needs  something  to  occupy  him ;  as  a  moral  being  he 
needs  God  over  all  and  in  all,  blissful  and  blessing.  Let  all  man's  wants  be 
met.  But  the  link  between  the  supply  and  the  demand  (or  the  soul  which 
should  demand),  is  the  man  who  has  already  found  the  supply.  If  the 
question  ever  arises  between  the  animal  and  the  immortal,  the  first  must 
yield.  I  hate  giving  in  to  the  principle  that  hunger  entitles  a  man,  not  to 
our  sympathy  and  our  charity,  as  men  and  Christians  ;  but  entitles  him  to 
be  anything  or  nothing,  a  thief  or  seditious.  '  A  man's  life  is  more  than 
meat.'" 

To  J.  C.  Shairp,  Esq.,  Rugby,  who  had  sent  a  Review  of  "Struthers'  Autobiography  "  : 

"May  12th,  1848. 

"  As  to  Struthers,  I  fear  you  have  missed  the  man.  He  is  so  completely 
a  formation  in  an  old  structure  of  society,  or  rather  an  old  organism  in  one, 
so  thoroughly  Scotch,  so  thoroughly  antique,  that  unless  you  had  been 
familiar  with  the  genus,  you  could  not  classify  him.  I  rejoice  in  his  crudities 
about  kirks.  The  very  oddity  of  the  garments  which  encase  his  Old 
Mortality  soul  delights  me.  The  feature  which  I  wished  you  to  delineate 
was  that  manly  independence,  that  godly  simplicity  of  the  peasant  saint, 
which  is  so  beautiful.  Just  read  again  his  early  days  as  a  herd,  his  first 
day  of  married  life,  his  first  entrance  into  Glasgow,  and  then  remember  how 
true  the  man  is.  He  is  a  genuine  man,  and  as  perfect  a  specimen  of  a  class 
of  Scotchmen  passing  away  (and  soon  to  be  driven  off  the  road  like  the 
old  coaches  by  steam)  as  the  pibroch  is  a  specimen  of  old  music,  or  the  small 
bog  myrtle  of  a  Highland  scene." 

To  the  Same  :— 

"  Craufurd  Priory,  May  Wth. 


a 


I  have  not  written  to  your  friend,  Mr.  Temple,  because  I  found  I  could 
not  receive  him  at  my  house  with  any  comfort  or  satisfaction.  I  came  here 
for  change  of  air,  and  propose  returning  home  the  end  of  the  week,  in  order 
to  attempt  a  little  Sabbath  duty  before  going  off  to  '  summer  high,'  upon 
the  Western  Hills  for  a  few  weeks.  I  have  run  away  from  the  General 
Assembly  to  which  I  was  elected  a  member,  preferring  to  drink  in  the  spirit 
of  solitude,  and  to  feast  my  inward  ear  upon  '  unheard  melodies,'  rather 
than  to  sit,  '  dusty  and  deliquescent,'  listening  to  the  debates  of  my  most 
worthy  and  orthodox,  but  still  prosy  and  cock-sure-of-everything,  brethren. 
All  this  lengthy  explanation  is  to  account  for  my  apparent  heathenish  want 
of  Temple  service  and  unkindness  toward  your  friend. 

''  I  have  found  it  very  good  to  have  been  withdrawn  for  some  time  from 
outward  work.  What  I  have  lost  in  body  doing,  I  have  gained  in  soul 
being.  I  have  felt  how  considerate  and  loving  it  was  in  Christ  to  have 
asked   His  disciples   lu  go  with   Him  and   '  rest  awhile,'  because  so  many 


186  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

were  coming  and  going  that  they  had  not  time  even  to  eat.  In  this  strug- 
gle between  the  unseen  and  seen — God,  and  things  apart  from  or  out  of 
God — it  is  good  to  be  outwardly  separated  from  the  seen  and  temporal,  as  a 
means  of  being  brougfcjt  more  into  contact  with  the  unseen  and  eternal.  I 
have  not  had  such  enjoyable  Sabbaths  for  a  long  time.  Such  peace  and  re- 
pose was  unearthly.  We  ministers  in  Scotland  cannot  always  enjoy  our 
Sabbaths.  We  have  too  much  giving  and  too  little  receiving.  The  only 
way  to  get  good  for  ourselves  is  to  preach  peacefully,  without  attempt  at 
fine  things,  and  in  the  sight  of  God  and  for  His  glory.  Two  books  I  read 
during  my  sickness — your  friend  Stanley's  '  Apostolic  Age,'  and  the  last 
edition  of  Hare's  '  Guesses  at  Truth.'  This  last  rather  disappointed  me.  It 
did  not,  as  a  whole,  send  me  far  on,  nor  did  it  come  up  to  my  idea  of  what  the 
Hares  could  have  done  under  the  cover  of  a  title  which  left  such  a  mighty 
field  for  vigorous  speculation.  I  was  delighted  with  Stanley.  The  style 
perhaps  is  rather  too  intensely  artistic.  But  it  is  a  well  put  together, 
manly,  fresh,  truthful  book.  I  have  no  doubt  of  his  success  in  seizing  the 
features  of  the  old  giants.  I  was  charmed  with  his  idea  of  each  apostle  be- 
coming a  guiding  star  to  different  times,  or  different  ages  finding  their  wants 
supplied  by  one  more  than  the  rest.  I  am  satisfied,  and  have  been  for 
some  time,  that  this  is  the  age  of  St.  John.  Unless  the  Church  gets  whole- 
some spiritual  food  given  to  it,  its  next  development  will  be  mysticism. 
Nothing  outward  in  government,  creed,  or  mode  of  worship  can  satisfy 
the  increasing  hunger  in  the  Church  ;  all  are  seeking  something  which  they 
find  not,  yet  know  not  hardly  what  they  seek.  I  think  that  something  is 
unity.  But  of  what  kind  1  Nothing  can  satisfy  but  one  ; — unity  of  mind 
with  Christ,  and  so  with  one  another.  I  hope  the  breakings  up  in  Protes- 
tantism may  lead  to  it.  The  breaking  up  of  fleshly  unity  (i.e.  anything 
apart  from  God)  often  leads  to  spiritual  unity.  Each  part,  being  driven  to 
God  (in  its  conscious  weakness)  for  that  strength,  and  good,  and  peace,  and 
joy,  earth  has  failed  to  give,  becomes  thereby  more  united  spiritually  to 
every  other  part  so  doing. 

"  I  dare  say  you  do  not  understand  me,  for  really  I  have  no  brain,  and  no 
patience  either  to  think  or  write.  I  ought  not  to  attempt  it.  I  only  wish 
you  were  beside  me,  that  I  might  splutter  out  my  thoughts  about  the  re- 
action which  the  outwardness  of  our  orthodoxy  is  producing,  and  which  the 
worst  kind  of  Germanism,  and  the  pantheism  of  Emerson,  are  meeting  and 
dissecting,  but  which  St.  John's  Gospels  and  Epistles  can  alone  so  meet,  as 
to  sanctify  and  save.     But  my  brain,  John,  my  brain  ! 

"  I  am  wearied,  I  can  write  no  more.  The  day  is  lovely.  John  Mack- 
intosh is  here  enjoying  himself  much.  We  are  with  my  brother  John,  in 
Crauford  Priory.  The  trees  are  scattering  their  blossoms  in  the  breeze  ;  the 
leaves  are  transparent ;  the  bees  and  birds  alone  disturb  the  silence  of  the 
woods.  I  have  had  a  short  enjoyable  lounge  on  mossy  sward.  I  seldom 
think  when  walking.     I  am,  as  Emerson  says,  '  a  transparent  eyeball.' 

"A  great  study  of  mine  during  my  sickness  has  been  that  mighty  deep — 
Christ's  temptation — taken  in  connection  with  the  history  of  the  first 
temptation,  the  history  of  thi  Isrelites,  Christ's  own  history,  and  the  history 
of  the  Church — and  of  each  Christian." 

An  illness,  brought  cm  by  overwork,  compelled  him  to  give  up 
preaching  for  a  time.     He  went  for  change  of  air  to  his  father's  house 


LAST  YEARS  AT  DALKEITH  187 

at  Shandon,  on  the  picturesque  banks  of  the  Careloch,  and  there,  in 
Iris  rambles  by  burn  and  brae,  thought  out  those  views  of  the  tempta- 
tions of  Christ  which  were  afterwards  published. 

From  his  Journal:— 

"Shandon,  May. — How  beautiful  is  everything  here!  It  is  a  very  world 
of  music  and  painting.  In  the  melody  of  the  birds,  in  the  forms  and  beauty 
of  the  landscape,  in  the  colouring  of  the  flowers  and  dressing  of  the  trees, 
there  seems  a  vindication  of  the  pursuit  of  the  fine  arts.  They  are  Goddike; 
but  how  demondike  when  the  artist  recognises  nature  no  longer  as  the  'Art 
of  God,'  but  as  the  art  of  Satan  for  satisfying  the  soul  without  God;  then 
Eden  is  Eden  no  longer — we  are  banished  from  its  tree  of  life. 

"How  many  things  are  in  the  world  yet  not  of  it!  The  material  world 
itself,  with  all  its  scenes  of  grandeur  and  beauty,  with  all  its  gay  adornments 
of  tree  and  llower,  and  light  and  shade — with  all  its  accompanying  glory  of 
blue  sky  and  ileecy  cloud,  or  midnight  splendour  of  moon  and  stars — all  are 
of  the  Father.  And  so,  too,  is  all  that  inner  world,  when,  like  the  outer, 
it  moves  according  to  His  will— of  loyal  friendships,  loving  brotherhood — 
and  the  heavenly  and  blessed  charities  of  home,  and  all  the  real  light  and 
joy  that  dwell,  as  a  very  symbol  of  His  own  presence,  in  the  Holy  of  Holies 
of  a  renewed  spirit.  In  one  word,  all  that  is  true  and  lovely  and  of  good 
report — all  that  is  one  with  His  will,  is  of  the  Father,  and  not  of  the  world. 
Let  the  world,  then,  pass  away  with  the  lust  thereof !  It  is  passing  away 
of  death  and  darkness — of  all  that  is  at  enmity  to  God  and  man.  All  that 
is  of  the  Father  shall  remain  for  ever." 

To  his  Sister  Jane  :—  «  Shandon,  May,  1848. 

''  I  have  been  yearning  here  for  quiet  and  retirement.  I  got  it  yesterday. 
I  set  off  upon  a  steeple-chase,  scenting  like  a  wild  ass  the  water  from  afar. 
But  heather,  birch,  and  the  like,  were  my  water  in  the  desert.  I  found  all. 
I  passed  through  the  upper  park  and  entered  a  birch  wood.  1  traced  an  old 
path,  half  trodden — whether  by  men  or  hares  I  could  not  tell.  It  lead  me 
to  a  wee  burn.  In  a  moment  I  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  a  poem;  one 
of  those  woodland  lyrics  which  have  a  melody  heard  and  unheard,  which 
enters  by  the  eye  and  ear,  goes  down  to  the  heart,  and  steeps  it  in  light,  pours 
on  it  the  oil  of  joy,  and  gives  it  'beauty  for  ashes.'  Tins  same  mountain 
spirit  of  a  burn  comes  from  the  heather,  from  the  lonely  home  of  sheep, 
kites,  and  'peasweeps.'  It  enters  a  birch  wood,  and  flows  over  cleanest  slate. 
When  I  met  it,  it  was  falling  with  a  chuckling,  gurgling  laugh,  into  a  small 
pool,  clear  as  liquid  diamond.  The  rock  shelved  over  it  and  sheltered  it. 
In  the  crevices  of  the  rock  were  arranged,  as  tasteful  nature  alone  can  do, 
bunches  of  primroses,  sprouting  green  ferns,  and  innumerable  rock  plants, 
while  the  sunlight  gleaming  from  the  water  danced  and  played  upon  the 
shelving  rock,  as  if  to  the  laughing  tune  of  the  brook,  and  overhead  weeping 
birches  and  hazels,  and  beside  me  green  grass  and  wood  hyacinths  and 
primroses.  All  around  the  birds  were  singing  with  'full-throated  ease,'  and 
up  above,  a  deep  blue  sky  with  a  few  island  clouds,  and  now  and  then,  far 
up,  a  solitary  crow  winging  across  the  blue  and  silence.  Now  this  I  call 
rest  and  peace.  It  is  such  an  hour  of  rest  amidst  toil  as  does  my  soul 
good,  lasts  and  will  come  back  with  a  soothing  peacefidness  amidst  hard 
labour. 


183  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  I  felt  so  thankful  for  my  creation,  my  profession,  my  country,  my  all, 
all,  all      I  only  desired  something  better  in  the  spirit. 

"  Pray  don't  smile  at  my  burn ;  but  when  I  feel  in  love,  T  delight  to 
expatiate  upon  my  beloved ;  and  I  am  mad  about  my  burn." 

To  the  Same  :—  «<  Shandon,  May  23,  1848. 

"To-day  I  set  off  on  a  cruise  to  discover  a  glen  about  which  there  were 
vague  traditions  at  Shandon.  It  was  called  Glen  Fruin,  which,  in  ancient 
( 'eltic,  I  understand,  was  the  Glen  of  Weeping.  Dr.  Macleod,  Gaelic  autho- 
rity who  is  with  us  (a  great  friend,  by-the-bye  of  my  mother's),  says  that 
the  bodies  of  the  dead  used  to  be  carried  through  the  said  glen,  from  some 
place  to  some  other  place — hence  weeping.  Well,  I  set  off.  Behold  me, 
stiff  in  the  limbs,  my  feet  as  if  they  were  'clay  and  iron' — hard,  unbending, 
yet  weak;  but  the  head  of  gold,  pure,  pure  gold;  though  now,  like  Bar- 
dolph's,  unfortunately  uncoinable.  Behold  me  puffing,  blowing,  passing 
through  the  upper  park.  Bathed  ere  I  reached  the  birch  wood,  and  soon 
reclined  near  my  burn,  with  Shakespeare  as  my  only  companion.  But  even 
he  began  to  be  too  stiff"  and  prosy.  The  ferns,  and  water,  and  cuckoo  beat 
him  hollow;  so  I  cast  him  aside,  and  began  creeping  up  the  burn,  seeking 
for  deeper  solitude,  like  a  wild  beast.  I  was  otter-like,  indeed,  in  every- 
thing save  my  size,  shape,  and  clothes,  and  having  Shakespeare  in  my 
pocket.  Then  I  began  to  gather  ferns,  and  found  beautiful  specimens. 
Then  I  studied  the  beautiful  little  scene  around  me,  and  was  so  glad  that  I 
dreamt,  on  and  on,  listening  to  that  sweet  inland  murmur. 

"The  power  of  the  hills  is  over  me!  Away  for  Glen  Fruin,  two  miles 
uphill  !  Hard  work  !  Alas,  alas  !  that  I  should  come  to  this !  Try  it ! 
Be  off!  So  off  I  went — and  on  and  on.  Green  braes — there  march  dykes 
— there  withered  heather — there  mossy.  Very  near  the  first  ridge  which 
bounds  the  horizon.  Puff,  puff" — on,  on  !  'Am  I  a  bullet1?'  On — at  last 
— I  must  lie  down  ! 

"This  will  never  do!  Go  ahead,  Norman!  Get  up — get  on!  I  do 
think  that,  on  principle,  I  should  stop!  Go  ahead.  What's  that?  'Cock, 
cock,  ock,  ivhiz-z-z-z' — Grouse!  That's  cheering.  What's  that1?  •'  Whead- 
leoo,  wheadleoo' — a  curlew?  Hurrah,  we  are  going  ahead!  Another  pull! 
The  loch  out  of  sicrht.  Something  looming  in  the  far  distance.  Arran  Hills. 
So,  ahead,  my  boy — limbs  better — steam  up — the  spirit  of  the  hills  getting 
strong — the  ghosts  of  my  fathers  and  mothers  beckoning  me  onwards.  The 
moor  getting  boggy — soft — more  hags — first  rate  !  Ladies  don't  walk  here. 
This  is  unknown  to  dandies.  Another  hill.  And  then — up  I  am!  Now, 
is  not  this  glorious?  Before  me,  pure  Loch  Gare — and  beyond  the  most 
sublime  view  I  almost  ever  saw.  Terraces  apparently  of  sea  and  land — the 
sea  a  mirror.  Vessels  everywhere — the  setting  sun  tinging  the  high  peaks 
of  Arran,  kissing  them  and  the  hills  of  Thibet  with  the  same  glow,  laying 
the  one  asleep  with  a  parting  kiss,  and  witli  another  waking  up  her  eastern 
children.     There's  poetry  for  you ! 

"The  great  hills  of  Arran,  '  like  great  men,'  as  Jean  Paid  says,  'the  first 
to  catch,  the  last  to  lose  the  light.'  Was  not  all  this  glorious?  not  to  speak 
of  the  sea,  and  ships,  ami  solitude.  Do  you  know  I  never  think  at  such 
times.  I  am  in  a  state  of  unconscious  reception,  and  of  conscious  deep  joy. 
No  more. 


LAST  YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  189 

"Glen  Fmin  lay  at  my  feet,  with  sloping  greon  lulls  like  the  Yarrow 
'bare  hills,'  as  Billy  says;  but  like  all  such  lulls,  most  poetical  and  full  of 
'pastoral  melancholy.'  Well,  I  shall  only  state  that  I  came  down,  in  case 
you  imagine  that  I  am  there  still.  And  when  I  came  down,  what  then? 
Most  amiably  and  most  literary — crammed  a  listening  audience  with  Words- 
worth, Tennyson,  and  Shakespeare. 

"Now  have  I  not  much  cause  to  thank  God  for  all  His  mercies?  and, 
dear,  I  have  done  so.  I  have  been  truly  happy.  My  study  has  been  the 
Temptation,  still  so  full  of  wonders.  I  have  not  been  in  the  least  troubled 
about  the  Assembly,  except  so  far  as  to  make  me  remember  it  in  my  prayers 
— yes,  both  Assemblies,  I  am  glad  to  say.  These  glorious  scenes  are  in  har- 
mony only  with  a  spirit  of  love.  God's  reign  over  all  men,  throughout  all 
ages,  and  God's  reign  of  love  in  our  hearts,  wdien  believed,  gives  peace. 

"  I  wish  to  be  back  in  time  to  prejmre  for  the  Communion.  The  scenes 
of  beauty  and  the  time  of  retirement  which  I  have  had  are  in  perfect  keep- 
ing with  again  hearing  'the  still  sad  music  of  humanity,'  in  our  miserable 
closes  and  vile  abodes.  The  Lord  left  His  glory  and  rest  to  dwell  with 
men ;  and  by  the  cross  He  entered  into  more  glorious  rest,  were  that 
possible." 

To  John  C.  Shairf,  Esq.,  Rugby :—  «  Siiandon,  May  25. 

"  In  the  midst  of  sovereign  hills  silence  is  most  becoming,  and  then  I 
never  can  think  at  such  times.  I  grow  as  unconsciously  as  plants  do  beneath 
the  sun  and  shower.  But  oh  !  the  life  and  joy!  The  man  who  begins  to 
doubt  anything  on  a  mountain  top  except  his  own  powers,  who  begins  to 
question  instead  of  contentedly  receiving,  who  speaks  of  the  authority  of 
books  and  professors,  who,  in  short,  does  not  love  and  rejoice,  should  be 
pitched  over  the  first  rock,  or  have  such  a  hiding  given  him  with  weepiiig 
birch  as  will  send  him  howling  to  Glen  Fruin  ('the  Glen  of  Weeping')!  I 
am  every  day  getting  better.  I  suffered  from  an  affection  of  the  membrane 
which  covers  stomach,  chest,  and  brain,  and  practically  all  creation  when  it 
(the  membrane)  is  out  of  order  !  I  am  certain  Hamlet's  liver  or  membrane 
was  affected ! 

From  his  Journal  :—  «  Shandon,  June  3. 

"  Was  there  ever  a  period  in  which  it  was  more  necessary  for  men  who 
love  the  good  of  our  National  Zion  to  meet  together  in  prayer  and  sober, 
earnest  thoughtfulness,  to  consider  the  state  of  our  country  and  the  present 
state  of  the  Church,  our  dangers,  difficulties,  weaknesses,  duties,  comforts? 

"  Might  not  such  questions  be  considered  as  bearing  upon  that  mighty 
one  of  education  :  the  training  up  of  an  efficient  ministry  ;  an  efficient  sys- 
tem of  Sabbath  schools ;  the  infusing  a  healthier  life  and  love  into  our  clergy ; 
the  development  of  Congregational,  Presbyterial,  Synodical,  and  Assembly 
life ;  the  bringing  forward  of  the  intelligent  laity  ;  the  best  mode  of  dealing 
with  the  poor  Highlands  ;  with  the  masses  in  towns  ;  what  is  needed  in  our 
theology  in  our  times  with  reference  to  Germany  and  England ;  what  are 
our  duties  to  Dissenters,  to  the  Church  of  England,  to  the  Continent.  If  we 
only  could  get  men  to  think,  and  think  earnestly,  in  this  terrible  crisis,  I 
should  be  at  ease." 


190  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

To  his  Sister  Jane  :— 

"Dalkeith. 

"  I  feel  terribly  my  loneliness,  especially  as  preventing  me  from  enjoying 
literary  society.  I  began  pondering  in  my  mind  whether  there  was  any  one 
in  the  town  Avho  could  share  my  pleasure  in  reading  '  The  Prelude,'  and 
'  In  Memoriam,'  or  have  a  talk  with  me  about  the  tendencies  of  the  age.  Of 
all  my  acquaintances,  I  thought  Mrs.  Huggins  probably  the  most  sjnrituelle, 
and  off  I  went  with  'The  Prelude.'  I  found  her  in  her  usual  seat  by  the  fire- 
side, her  face  calm  and  meditative,  her  thumbs  still  pursuing  their  endless 
chase  after  each  other,  as  if  each  had  vowed  an  eternal  revenge  of  his  brother. 
There  was  an  air  of  placid  repose  in  her  time-worn  features,  combined  with 
an  intellectual  grandeur,  caught  from  her  long  residence  with  the  late  illus- 
trious Mr.  Huggins,  and  also  a  nervous  twitching  of  the  features,  with  an 
occasional  lightning  flash  about  the  eye,  which  I  have  do  doubt  was  occa- 
sioned by  living  near  the  powder-mills  for  thirty  years.  I  was  disappointed 
with  her  views  of  poetry.  I  read  the  Introduction,  and  the  following  con- 
versation ensued : — 

"  '/. — We  have  here,  I  think,  a  fine  combination  of  the  poet  with  the 
poetic  artist.' 

"  iH. — I  wadna  doot.     How's  yer  sister?' 

"  '/. — Well,  I  thank  you.  She  has  been  a  long  time  cultivating  the  ideal 
under  me  ;  but  her  talent  is  small,  her  genius  nothing." 

"  '  11. — Is  her  coch  (cough)  better? 

"  '  /. — Rather,  Mrs.  Huggins.     But,  pray,  how  do  you  like  Wordswoi-thf 

"  '  //. — I  dinna  ken  him.  Whar  does  he  leeve?  In  Pettigrew's  Close1? 
Is  he  the  sticket  minister  % 


!    » 


To  his  Brother  George  (advising  him  on  the  choice  of  a  profession) : — 

"Dalkeith,  November  6,  1848. 

.  .  .  "  We  must  assume  then,  that,  whatever  we  eat  or  drink,  or 
whatever  we  do,  it  must  be  for  God's  glory ;  or,  to  make  this  plainer,  I 
assume  that  Christ  has  for  every  man  '  his  work' — a  something  in  His 
kingdom  to  do  which  is  better  suited  to  him,  and  he  to  it,  than  any  other. 
Happy  is  the  man  who  finds  what  his  work  is  and  does  it !  To  find  it  is  to 
find  our  profession,  and  to  do  it  is  to  find  our  highest  good  and  peace. 

"  My  faith  is,  that  there  is  a  far  greater  amount  of  revelation  given  to 
guide  each  man  by  the  principles  laid  down  in  the  Bibb,  by  conscience, 
and  by  Providence,  than  most  men  are  aware  of.  It  is  not  the  light  which 
is  defective,  it  is  an  eye  to  see  it. 

"  For  instance  :  Christ  calls  us  outwardly  and  inwardly  to  our  pi'ofession, 
and  those  two  calls,  when  they  coincide  (when,  like  two  lions,  they  meet 
at  one  point),  determine  a  profession  to  any  man  who  will  be  at  all  de- 
termined by  the  will  of  the  Redeemer.  The  outward  call  is  made  up  of 
all  those  outward  circumstances  which  render  the  profession  at  all  possible 
Cor  us,  and  which  render  any  one  profession  more  possible  than  another. 
With  this  principle  you  are  at  no  difficulty,  of  course,  in  determining  a 
thousand  professions  or  positions  in  society  which  are  not  possible  for  you, 
and  to  which,  consequently,  you  are  not  called.  I  need  not  illustrate  this, 
it  is  self-evident.      But  as  in  your  case  two  or  three  professions  may  present 


LAST   YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  101 

themselves  to  yon  winch  appear  all  possible — nay,  at  first  sight,  all  equally 
possible — in  such  a  predicament  you  would  require  carefully  to  apply  the 
above  rule,  in  order  calmly  to  consider  which  is  most  possible,  on  the  whole, 
for  you.  Among  the  outward  circumstances  which,  as  I  have  said,  combine 
to  make  up  this  outward  call,  may  be  mentioned  bodily  health,  the  likings 
of  friends,  interest  of  the  family,  means  of  usefulness,  &c. 

"  But  there  is  also  the  inward  call  to  be  considered.  By  this  I  mean  a 
man's  internal  fitness  for  the  profession ;  and  this  of  coui*se  makes  the 
problem  a  little  more  complex,  yet  nut  impossible  of  solution.  A  man 
miffht  rmt  such  questions  as  those  : — 

"  Which  profession  gives  the  greatest  scope  for  the  development  of  my 
whole  being,  morally,  intellectually,  socially,  actively  1  Again ;  am  I 
fitted  for  this  as  to  talent,  principle,  education?  In  which  could  I  best  and 
with  the  greatest  advantage  use  all  the  talents  Christ  has  given  me,  and 
for  which  He  will  make  me  responsible,  so  that  not  one  talent  shall  be  laid 
up  in  a  napkin  or  buried,  but  that  all  may  be  so  employed  that  He  can  say 
to  me,  '  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant  V  This  is  the  way  of  looking 
at  the  question;  and  I  do  not  think  it  difficult  to  apply  it  practically  with 
the  assistance  of  God's  good  spirit.  I  tell  you  candidly,  that,  as  far  as  I 
see,  you  have  to  decide  between  the  ministry  and  the  medical  profession. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  which  I  love  most.  I  would  not  exchange  my  pro- 
fession for  any  on  earth.  All  I  have  seen  of  the  world  in  courts  and  camps, 
at  home  and  abroad,  in  Europe  and  America,  all,  all  makes  me  cling  to  it 
and  love  it  the  more.  My  love  to  it  is  daily  increasing.  I  bless  and  praise 
God  that  He  has  called  me  to  it.  Would  only  I  were  worthier  of  the  glory 
and  dignity  which  belong  to  it !  I  find  in  it  work  most  congenial  to  my 
whole  being.  It  at  once  nourishes  and  gives  full  scope  to  my  spirit.  It 
affords  hourly  opportunities  for  the  gratification  of  my  keenest  sympathies 
and  warmest  affections.  It  engages  my  intellect  with  the  loftiest  investiga- 
tions which  can  demand  its  exercise.  It  presents  a  field  for  constant  activity 
in  circumstances  which  are  ever  varying,  yet  always  interesting,  and  never 
too  burdensome  to  be  borne.  It  enables  me  to  bring  to  bear  all  I  know, 
all  I  acquire,  all  I  love,  upon  the  temporal  and  eternal  well-being  of  my 
fellow-men,  and  to  influence  their  peace  and  good  for  ever.  It  brings 
me  into  contact  with  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  in  the  most  endearing 
and  interesting  relationships  in  which  man  can  stand  to  man  :  a  sharer  of 
their  joys  and  sorrows,  a  teacher,  a  comforter,  a  guide.  Do  you  wonder 
that  with  all  my  care  and  anxiety  (which  are  burdens  worthy  of  man)  I 
should  be  happy  all  the  clay  long  1  I  envy  no  man  on  earth,  except  a  better 
Christian.  A  minister  of  the  gospel !  Kings  and  princes  may  veil  their 
faces  before  such  a  profession.  It  is  to  have  the  profession  of  angels,  and  to 
be  a  fellow-worker  with  Christ.  Excuse  me,  if  forgetting  you  for  a  moment,. 
I  have  expressed  the  deep  convictions  of  my  soul  as  to  what  I  feel  this  pro- 
fession to  be.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  I  have  no  wish  to  influence  you  ; 
I  have.  For  I  would  sooner  see  you  an  officer  in  Christ's  army — a  plain 
Scotch  minister  though  he  be — than  any  other  thing  on  earth  which  I  can 
suppose  it  possible  for  you  to  have. 

"  Add  to  all  this,  the  loud  call  for  such  men  as  you  to  join  the  Church  ! 
Oh,  George,  if  you  knew  how  I  have  looked  forward  to  your  being  with 
me  !     How  I  have  rejoiced  in  the  prospect  of  seeing  us  three  brothers  carry 


192  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

the  Banner  of  the  Cross  together  in  our  poor  but  beloved  country !  I 
somehow  cannot  give  up  the  hope  yet.  Better  days  are  coming.  They 
would  come  soon,  had  we  more  such  men  as  you." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"November  G. — Twenty-six  cases,  and  eighteen  deaths,  (no  recoveries) 
from  cholera  at  Loanhead.     The  Cholera  Hospital  preparing  here. 

"  '  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace  whose  soul  is  stayed  on  Thee,  be- 
cause he  trusteth  in  Thee.'     Amen. 

"  December  21. — I  hear  two  cases  have  occurred  here  last  night. 

"  Lord  give  me  grace  to  do  that  which  is  l'ight.  My  trust  is  in  Thee. 
Thou  art  my  refuge,  and  my  fortress,  my  God,  and  having  Thee  as  my  sure 
and  unchanging  good,  I  am  not  afraid  of  the  '  pestilence  that  walketh  in 
darkness,  nor  of  the  destruction  which  wasteth  at  noonday.'  Lord,  direct 
my  steps  !  Preserve  me  from  the  vanity  and  vainglory  which  might  wick- 
edly lead  me  to  expose  myself  to  danger,  and  from  the  selfish  fear  which 
would  drive  me  from  my  duty.  '  Lead  me  in  truth,  teach  me,'  and  may  I, 
at  this  trying  time,  be  and  do  that  which  is  right  as  Thy  son  and  minister- 
ing servant,  and  whether  by  life  or  death  may  I  glorify  Thee — for  living  or 
dying  I  am  Thine,  through  Jesus  Christ !     Amen. 

"December  31,  Sabbath  night. — I  am  here  all  alone  upon  the  last  Sab- 
bath, almost  the  last  hour,  of  1848. 

"  What  a  year  of  world-wonders  this  has  been,  with  political  revolutions 
in  every  part  of  Europe  !     In  Britain,  famine,  pestilence,  riots,  and  rebellion. 

"  It  has  been  an  all-important  year  to  me  !  During  the  year  I  can  say, 
that  as  far  as  I  know,  I  have  not  for  a  day  or  at  any  time  consciously  re- 
sisted what  I  knew  to  be  right,  setting  my  heart  upon  evil.  I  do  not  say 
that  I  have  done  any  one  thing  perfectly.  Every  day  has  disclosed  mani- 
fold imperfections,— sloth,  pride,  vanity,  ambition,  shortcomings  in  all 
things — but  I  have  been  alive.  To  what  is  this  owing]  I  rejoice  to  write 
it  — let  it  be  seen  by  angels  and  devils — to  the  free  and  boundless  and  om- 
nipotent grace  and  infinite  love  of  God. 

"  I  have  been  reading  those  old  diaries.  May  I  not  try  (in  much  ignor- 
ance) to  sum  up  some  practical  lessons  from  dear-bought  experience  1 

1.  I  had  inadequate  views  of  Christ's  cross.  I  saw  a  work  done  for 
me — a  ground  for  pardon — an  objective  reality ;  but  I  did  not  see  so  clearly 
the  eternal  necessity  of  the  cross  in  me,  of  sharing  Christ's  life  as  mine,  of 
glorying  in  the  cross  as  reflected  in  the  inward  power  it  gives  to  '  be  cruci- 
fied to  the  world,  and  the  world  to  me.' 

2.  I  was  dealing  too  little  with  a  Personal  Saviour — had  too  little  (or 
no)  confidence  in  His  love  to  me  individually,  and  in  His  will  and  power 
to  free  from  sin  by  making  me  like  Himself. 

"  Light  dawns,  life  comes  !  I  have  faith  in  the  love  of  God  to  me,  that 
I — even  I,  shall  be  '  perfect'  as  my  Father  in  Heaven  is  perfect. 

"  What  have  I  lost  by  my  wilful  and  rebellious  sin  !  I  have  during 
these  years  come  in  contact  with  many  thousand  in  different  parts  of  the 
world*  in  the  most  interesting  circumstances,  in  domestic  and  in  public  life, 
in  sickness,  family  distress,  and  on  death-beds.  How  much  good  has  been 
lost  and  evil  done,  by  the  absence  of  that  real  earnestness  of  word,  look, 
Usmper,  teaching, — that  all,  which  can  only  come  from  a  soul  in  a  right  state 


LAST    YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  193 

with  Go;],  and  which  never  can  be  imitated,  or  would  be  so  only  by  hypoc- 
risy.    What  good,  and  peace,  and  happiness  have  I  lost  to  myself! 

"  There  is  another  thing  presses  itself  upon  me.  I  know  as  surely  as  I 
know  anything,  that  all  my  sin  has  emanated  from  myself,  and  yet  I  do 
believe  God  has  brought  more  good  to  me  in  the  latter  end  by  this  very  life 
than  could  perhaps  have  been  brought  in  any  other  way.  I  would  shudder 
in  writing  this  if  it  appeared  to  be  the  slightest  excuse  for  my  iniquities. 
These,  I  repeat  it,  were  mine.  But  I  think  I  have  a  glimpse  of  that  marvel 
of  Providence  by  which  evil — while  it  is  nothing  but  evil — is  yet  by  in- 
finite wisdom  and  love  made,  like  a  wild  stream,  an  instrument  of  God. 

"  Let  me  not  forget  to  mention  three  men  from  whom  I  have  received 
unspeakable  good — Thomas  Arnold,  Alexander  Scott,  and  dear  John 
Campbell.  , 

"  I  go  to  Glasgow  to-morrow.  Cholera  rages,  but  I  join  my  family,  cast- 
ing my  care  on  God.  Lord  Jesus,  my  ever-present  and  ever-loving  Saviour, 
I  desire  to  abide  in  Thee,  to  trust  in  Thy  life,  Thy  grace,  Thy  character, 
Thy  ways. 

"  Lord  I  am  thine  !   for  time  and  eternity.     Amen  and  Amen." 


The  condition  of  the  Church  still  weighed  heavily  on  him.  Church 
questions  were  in  his  eyes  secondary* to  the  grand  end  for  which  all 
Churches  exist,  the  raising  up  of  living  Christians ;  and  so  day  and 
night  he  pondered  over  the  best  methods  for  stimulating  a  healthy 
zeal.  There  were  many  clergymen  in  his  own  neighbourhood  and 
elsewhere,  who  sympathized  with  him  in  his  anxieties,  and  with  whom 
he  frequently  exchanged  ideas  on  this  subject.  But  as  there  was  no 
organ  through  which  the  Church  might  address  her  members  on 
questions  of  Christian  life  and  work,  it  was  resolved  that  a  magazine 
should  be  started,  containing  papers  for  Sabbath  reading,  and  to  be 
sold  at  the  lowest  possible  price.  He  thus  became  editor  of  the  Edin- 
burgh Christian  Magazine,  a  monthly  periodical  published  by  Messrs. 
Baton  and  Richie,  in  Edinburgh.  Short  sermons,  papers  on  social  and 
scientific  subjects,  biographies,  missionary  intelligence,  articles  upon 
parochial  and  church  organization,  and  notices  of  books,  formed  the 
contents. 

The  Christian  Magazine  never  attained  a  very  large  circulation  ; 
but  the  editor  was  well  satisfied  in  having  an  audience  of  5,000  fami- 
lies to  which  he  could  address  himself,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
the  appeals  made  in  its  pages  on  behalf  of  missionary  enterprise,  and 
organized  parochial  work,  did  much  to  quicken  a  religious  life  which 
was  broad  and  tolerant  as  well  as  earnest. 

Many  of  the  articles  and  stories  which  he  afterwards  wrote  for 
Good  Words,  appeared  in  an  embryo  form  in  the  "  Blue  "  Magazine,  as 
it  was  popularly  called  ;  but  the  greater  portion  of  his  contributions 
consisted  of  short,  practical  papers  intended  for  the  firesides  of  Church- 
men.     During  the  first  year  of  the  magazine  (1849-50),  he  wrote  mom 

13 


194  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

than  twenty  articles,  and  among  these  a  useful  series  on  Family 
Education,  which  afterwards  expanded  into  a  volume.* 

A  series  of  papers  on  Drunkenness,  which  he  contributed  during 
1850-51,  was  reprinted  under  another  title.-f- 

He  was  a  member  of  the  General  Assembly  of  1849,  and  spoke  at 
considerable  length  on  Education,  the  Continental  Churches,  India 
Mission,  and  Endowment.  In  his  speech  on  the  last  named  subject 
he  expressed,  with  great  energy,  his  favourite  idea  of  the  Christian 
congregation  being  a  society  charged  with  the  blessed  mission  of  meet- 
ing the  manifold  evils  of  society,  physical  and  social  as  well  as  spiritual, 
and  urged  the  necessity  of  bringing  living  Christian  men  into  personal 
contact  with  the  poor,  the  ignorant,  and  the  ungodly.  His  reflections 
during  the  disturbances  of  1848,  and  the  deep  impression  made  on  him 
by  the  Glasgow  mob,  found  a  voice  for  themselves  on  this  occasion. 


"The  question  appeared  to  him  to  lie  between  the  needy  masses  upon  the 
one  hand,  and  those  who  were  able  to  help  them  upon  the  other — between 
those  who  were  poor  temporally  and  spiritually,  and  those  upon  whom  God 
had  bestowed  temporal  and  spiritual  blessings.  The  object  of  endowed 
territorial  work  was  to  bring  them  in  contact  upon  the  fields  of  the  Christian 
Church.  They  wished  the  poor  to  meet  the  rich  there,  that  the  rich  might 
assist  them :  they  wished  the  ignorant  to  meet  the  well  informed  there,  that 
they  might  receive  of  their  knowledge.  They  wished  the  suffering,  the  des- 
titute, and  the  afflicted,  to  meet  the  kind,  and  sympathizing,  and  Christian- 
hearted  there,  and  from  the  union  of  fulness  and  emptiness,  to  enable  those 
who  have,  to  give  to  those  who  stand  in  need.  Every  man  in  that  vast  mass 
of  humanity  had  immense  influence,  and  if  he  could  not  be  made  great  for 
good  he  might  be  made  great  for  evil.  The  hand  that  could  use  the  hammer, 
could  seize  the  firebrand;  the  tongue  that  could  sing  praises  to  God,  might 
become  voluble  in  blasphemy  and  sedition.  The  man  with  a  strong  head 
and  heart,  but  uninformed,  might  gather  his  fellow-workmen  around  him 
in  hundreds  and  thousands — he  might  speak  to  them  of  the  separation 
between  man  and  man,  with  an  eloquence  that  rung  in  every  man's  heart, 
because  they  felt  it  to  be  true ,  he  might  speak  of  those  who  were  in  com- 
fort, but  who  did  not  care  for  those  in  misery ,  he  might  speak  of  those  who 
were  educated,  but  who  cared  nob  for  those  in  ignorance ,  and  that  mass 
might  become  like  a  mighty  avalanche  set  loose  from  its  cold  solitude,  and 
descending  into  their  valleys,  crush  the  commercial  prosperity  and  institu- 
tions of  the  country  ;  and  all  the  while  they  would  feel  it  to  be  a  righteous 
punishment,  on  the  part  of  a  righteous  God,  for  their  selfishness  and  apathy." 

From  his  Journal: — 

"  I  call  individualism  the  embodiment  of  all  those  theories  which  would 
throw  man  back  upon  himself,  make  himself  the  centre,  and  referring  all 
things  to  that  centre,  measure  all  things  from  it.  It  sees  no  law,  no  rule, 
no  end,  no  will  beyond  self.     The  grand  text  of  Emerson,  'I  am  a  man/  is 

*  "The  Home  School." 
+  "A  Pi^a,  for  Temperance." 


LAST    YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  VJo 

(in  his  sense  of  tlio  phrase)  its  expression.  "What  is  society  to  me1?  What 
is  Luther'?  What  is  the  Church,  or  the  Bible,  or  Christ,  or  God?  'I  am 
a  man.'  This  is  Selbststdndigkeit  with  a  vengeance  !  A  man  refuses  to  re- 
cognise or  worship  the  personal  God,  and  ends  by  worshipping  himself. 

"  Self-destruction  is  the  opposite  of  this,  and  expresses  the  essence  of  those 
systems  by  which  the  individual  is  annihilated.  Popery  is  its  ecclesiastical 
ideal,  and  despotism  its  civil.  The  Jesuit  maxim,  'be  in  all  things  a  dead 
man,'  is  the  opposite  pole  from  Emerson.  If  the  one  system  deifies  man, 
the  other  annihilates  him,  though  it  must  in  justice  be  added,  as  a  professed 
means  of  ultimately  deifying  him.  Socialism  seems  to  me  to  be  the  Devil's 
tertium  quid.  It  would  seek  to  fill  up  the  longings  in  man  after  union  in 
something  higher  or  something  beyond  himself,  and  at  the  same  time  afford 
him  the  fullest  out-going  for  his  individualism.  It  is  society  sacrificed  to 
the  individual.  Romanism  would  have  the  individual  sacrificed  to  the 
society  called  the  Church.  These  two  poles  are  always  producing  each  other. 
It  is  no  wonder  that  the  ecclesiastical  and  civil  systems  which  would  destroy 
the  individual  should  produce  the  re-action  of  pantheism  and  republicanism, 
which  would  embody  man's  individualism  religiously  and  civilly.  • 

''  What  is  the  Christian  tertium  quid  ? 

"  1.  Unity  with  a  personal  God  revealed  in  a  personal  Saviour.  This 
destroys  individualism  in  so  far  as  it  establishes  personal  responsibility,  and 
places  the  man  as  a  part  of  a  system,  in  which  not  he,  but  a  personal  God, 
is  the  centre,  a  God  whom  we  ought  to  love  and  serve.  Individualism 
cannot  co-exist  with  the  ideas  of  ought  to  love  and  serve.  These  destroy 
Selbststandigfa  it.  To  recognize  the  existence  of  light,  is  at  once  to  give  up 
the  notion  that  the  eye  exists  for  itself,  and  by  itself,  as  a  self-sustaining 
and  self-satisfying  organ. 

"  2.  Union  with  man  through  God.  I  say  through  God,  because  we 
can  only  find  our  true  relationship  to  any  point  within  the  circle  by  seeing 
our  mutual  relationship  to  the  centre,  God  our  Creator,  as  the  bond  which 
unites  us  to  man.  God  our  Father  is  the  bond  which  unites  us  to  all  His 
true  children.  The  family,  the  neighbourhood,  the  citizenship,  the  state, 
are  the  outlets  of  our  social  tendencies  to  men,  in  God  our  Creator. 

"  The  Church  is  specially  the  outlet  of  our  social  tendencies  to.  God  our 
Redeemer.  There  is  here  a  healthy  union  of  our  individualism  with  social- 
ism. The  individual  is  preserved.  His  personality  is  not  destroyed — it  is 
developed.  Free-will,  responsibility,  the  necessity  of  seeing  and  knowing 
for  himself  are  recognized.  In  Heaven  he  can  say,  'I  am  a  man.'  His 
union  with  God  is  essential  to  the  development  of  his  individuality,  just  as 
light  is  essential  to  the  health  of  the  eye.  The  social  life  is  also  preserved. 
The  attraction  of  God  renders  the  attraction  of  man  necessary.  The  fam- 
ily relation  appointed  by  God,  is  the  school  in  which  men  are  trained  for 
the  family  of  man.  The  child,  in  spite  of  himself,  finds  himself  a  brother, 
or  son,  and  enters  life  a  part  of  a  system,  to  whose  well-being  he  must  con- 
tribute his  portion  by  the  sacrifice  of  self,  and  in  this  very  sacrifice  find 
himself  enriched.  The  necessity  of  labour  is  another  bond,  and  so  is  the 
necessity  of  living.  The  man  must  remain  poor  in  head  unless  he  receives 
knowledge,  and  poor  in  pocket  unless  he  receives  work,  and  poor  in  heart 
unless  he  receives  love.  And  all  this  receiving  implies  "ivin^,  whether  it 
be  faith,  or  work,  or  love,  in  return ;  and  thus  bond  after  bond  draws  man 
out  of  himself  to  man. 


196  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  No  wonder  Pantheists  and  Socialists  hate  the  personal  God,  the  family, 
the  Word,  the  Church." 

To  Mr.  james  M'Pherson  (an  Elder  in  Loudoun) : — 

"Dalkeith,  February  17,   1049. 

"  I  need  hardly  tell  you  that  I  very  sincerely  sympathize  with  you,  and 
with  all  my  dear  old  friends  who  are  now  in  the  midst  of  such  sore  and 
solemn  trials.  I  fancy  myself  among  you,  going  from  house  to  house.  I 
see  your  faces,  and  know  how  you  will  all  think  and  feel.  I  wish  you 
would  let  me  know  who  have  been  carried  off.  From  my  parish  visitation 
book,  I  can  recall  the  face  and  character  of  every  one  I  knew  in  the  parish, 
as  well  as  I  could  the  day  I  left  it,  and  I  feel  anxious  to  know  who  have 
been  removed. 

"  How  soothing  to  feel  that  we  are  not  lost  in  the  big  crowd,  that  our 
case  is  not  overlooked  by  Him  who  is  guiding  the  stars — but  that  His  eye 
of  love  rests  upon  us,  and  that  He  is  attending  to  each  of  us  as  really  and 
truby  as  He  did  to  Martha,  and  Mary,  and  Lazarus,  whom  He  loved  !" 

To  John  Mackintosh  (in  Rome)  : — 

"  Dalkeith,  December  25,  1849. 

"  Your  letter  inflamed  my  blood  and  filed  my  brain,  and  unless  I  knew 
from  experience  that  '  we  may  not  hope  from  outward  forms  to  live  the 
(what1?)  passion  and  the  joy  (life1?)  whose  fountains  are  within,'  I  should 
certainly  have  been  unhappy.  Dear  John,  all  our  happiness  flows  from 
our  blessed  Redeemer.  He  divideth  to  each,  gifts,  talents,  place,  work, 
circumstances,  as  seemeth  good  to  himself.  Blessed  is  the  man  who  can 
trust  Him,  and  take  what  He  gives,  using  it  for  the  end  for  which  it  is 
given.  So,  dear  John,  I  will  not  envy  thee  !  Thine  is  Rome,  mine  is 
home.  Thine  the  gloi'ies  of  the  past,  mine  labour  for  the  glories  of  the 
future  without  the  past.  Thine  the  eternal  city  with  all — all — art,  music, 
ruins,  visions,  ideal  day  dreams,  choking  unutterable  reminiscences  'r  a 
spiritual  present,  impalpable,  fascinating  ; — all — all  that  would  make  me 
laugh,  weep,  scream,  sing — all,  and  more  are  thine.  So  be  it.  Mine  is  a 
different  lot,  but  both  are  given  us  by  Him,  to  be  used  for  His  kingdom 
and  glory  ; — and  darling,  thou  wilt  so  use  them,  I  am  sure  !  The  spirit  of 
the  greatest  man  Rome  ever  held  within  her  walls,  even  that  old  tent- 
maker,  he  who  after  Lis  wintry  cruise  came  weary  and  careworn  up  the 
Appian  way — his  humble  and  heroic  spirit  will  be  thine  !  and  His,  too,  by 
whom  he  lived!  For  this  day  ('tis  past  12  a.m.!)  reminds  me  Christ  is 
born,  and  the  world  of  Cicero  and  Caesar  is  not  ours,  but  a  world  unseen  by 
the  eye,  unheard  by  the  ear;  a  woidd  whose  glories  are  in  dim  wynd  and 
dusky  tenement  as  much  as  in  Rome.  So,  dear  John,  I  will  do  His  will 
here,  and  thou  there,  and  if  we  be  faithful,  we  shall  have  a  glorious  life 
of  it  together  somewhere  else  and  for  ever !  Yet,  would  I  were  with  thee! 
It  is  my  weakness ;  I  can  guide  it  only,  change  it  I  cannot. 

"  Every  tiling  in  our  land  is  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable.  Don't  believe 
me.  I  presume  it  is  the  best  land  on  earth ;  but  I  have  not  moved  for 
months  from  home. 


LAST  YEARS  AT  DALKEITH  1U7 

"  What  of  the  Jews  in  Rome  1  Let  us  labour  for  them,  but  confess  that 
their  day  is  not  yet  come,  nor,  I  think,  dawned.  This  is  my  latest  conclu- 
sion. Keep  thy  heart,  dearest.  Were  I  in  your  place,  I  believe  I  should 
be  ruined;  thus  I  see  Christ's  love  in  keeping  me  at  home.  Popery  !  'The 
Bible  without  the  spirit  is  a  sundial  by  moonlight.'  Well  done,  old  Coleridge ! 
I  have  long  believed  that  Popery  will  be  the  pantheistic  re-action  of  the 
latter  days.  Prcsbyterianism  in  our  country  is  a  poor  affair.  If  there  is  to 
be  a  Church  for  man  to  embrace  taste,  intellect,  genius,  and  inspire  love, 
veneration,  awe,  and  if  that  Church  is  to  be  a  visible  one,  our  Free  and 
Pond  won't  be  among  the  number.  We  are  sermonising  snobs.  Put  I 
rave  and  run  on.  Don't  believe  me.  Short  of  heaven  there  is  no  ideal 
Church.  I  am  sure  of  this,  that  I  am  right  in  loving  Christ,  and  in  loving 
Christians,  and  the  souls  of  men  for  His  sake.  Beyond  this  twilight,  farther 
on  darkness  !  What  are  you  doing  now  1  Gazing  on  the  moon,  feasting 
on  Christmas  rites,  seeing,  hearing.     Ah,  me  !" 

From  his  Father  : — 

'•'Moffat,  1849. 

"  It  would  truly  give  me  real  delight  if  you  could  go  to  London  and  act 
as  my  substitute,  and  in  such  a  good  cause.  The  poor  Highlands  and  Isles 
are  as  worthy  of  your  efforts  as  Germans  or  Jews  or  Indians,  and  they  re- 
quire it  just  as  much.  The  only  legacy  I  can  leave  you  is  an  interest,  a 
heartfelt  interest  in  that  poor  people  whose  blood  flows  in  your  veins.  Do, 
my  dear  fellow,  think  of  it." 

From  his  Note-Book  : — 

"  A  Work  for  1850. — January  18.  It  is  now  being  impressed  upon 
minds,  slow  to  learn  from  anything  but  facts,  that  the  Church  of  Scotland 
is  daily  going  down  hill.  We  are  weak,  weak  politically,  weak  in  the 
hearty  attachment  of  any  class — upper,  middle,  or  lower,  learned,  earnest, 
or  pious — to  us,  as  a  Church ; — there  is  no  State  party  who  care  one 
farthing  for  us  on  great,  national,  and  righteous  principles.  Yet  all  this 
would  not  necessarily  be  evil  if  we  were  strong  Godward.  Nay,  it  might 
prove  a  blessing,  the  blessing  which  often  springs  from  a  sore  chastisement. 
Put  I  cannot  conceal  from  myself  that  we  have  reached  the  depth  im- 
mediately below  which  is  destruction,  of  being  weak  towards  God  in  faith, 
love,  hope,  devotedness,  and  in  simple-mindedness  for  His  glory.  I  cannot 
say  what  amount  of  good  may  exist  in  the  Church.  God  knoweth  how 
many  hidden  ones  it  may  contain !  and  He  may  see  many  tears  shed  in 
secret,  and  may  hear  many  groans  for  the  sins  of  Jerusalem,  and  many 
prayers  may  enter  His  ears  for  her  peace  and  prosperity.  Put  sin  can  be 
seen.  The  evil  is  manifest,  and  what  is  bad  is  visible.  There  is  sloth  and 
an  easy  indifference  as  to  the  state  of  the  Church.  No  searching,  as  far  as 
man  knows,  to  find  out  our  sins.  No  plans,  no  strivings  to  meet  difficulties 
and  evils,  to  do  our  work  as  we  should  do.  Everywhere  disunion,  separa- 
tion, men  flying  from  social  questions  which  affect  the  body,  and  even  the 
good  men  seeking  relief  in  the  spiritual  selfishness  of  personal  and  parish 
work,  as  if  terrified  to  look  at  things  within  and  around. 

"  In  these  circumstances  the  work  I  would  propose  would  be  a  convocation 
of  a  number  (however  small)  to  inquire  into   the  stale  of  Zion ;  to  seek  out 


193  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

and  apply  a  remedy  ;  above  all,  to  do  the  work  of  works,  of  lying  prostrate 
before  God,  and  asking  in  earnest  prayer,  '  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  us 
to  do'?'" 

To  Mrs.  Dennistoun  : — 

"  Dalkeith,  Sept.  ith,  1S50. 

"  I  am  here  all  alone — Skye*  my  only  companion — if  I  except  my  con- 
stant friends  on  the  book-shelves,  who  chat  with  me  day  and  night.  I  am 
very  jolly,  because  very  busy  ;  not  that  I  by  any  means  advocate  this 
bachelor  life,  for  unless  I  looked  forward  to  my  sister's  return,  I  would 
instantly  advertise,  my  parochial  visitations  preventing  me  for  some  time 
from  personally  attending  to  this  duty ;  I  often  think  FalstafFs  resolution 
was  not  a  bad  one,  '  I'll  turn  a  weaver  and  sing  psalms  !  Before  I  lead  this 
life  longer,  I'll  sew  nether  socks,  and  foot  them  too  !' 

•''  The  only  defect  in  Skye  is,  that  I  never  can  get  him  to  laugh.  He  is 
painfully  grave.  He  seems  sometimes  to  make  an  effort,  but  it  passes  off 
like  electricity  by  his  tail,  which  becomes  tremulous  with  emotion." 


The  following  bit  of  nonsense  was  sent  as  a  quiz  on  some  members 
of  the  home  household,  who  were  fascinated  by  the  description  of 
primitive  life  and  domestic  happiness  in  the  Landes  of  France  as  com- 
municated by  a  French  friend. 

"August,  1850. 
"  It  requires  no  small  effort  in  me  to  wiite  to  you.  It  disturbs  my  deep 
repose;  it  ruffles  my  '  calm,'  'so  very  calm  from  day  to  day.'  It  causes 
movement  of  my  hand  and  thought  in  my  brain  which  are  habitual  to  neither; 
but  as  you  kindly  wish  me  to  write  to  you,  and  flatter  me  with  the  assurance 
that  my  beloved  parents  will  not  consider  an  epistle  from  me  an  irreverent 
intrusion  upon  their  time,  I  shall  forthwith  give  you  a  simple  account  of  my 
daily  habits.  I  go  to  bed  about  ten  or  half  past ;  it  depends  on  circum- 
stances. I  awake  about  eight,  and  lie  thinking  till  about  nine  or  ten.  This 
morning  I  fancied  that  I  became  a  poor  man,  and  sold  my  books  and  took 
a  little  cottage  somewhere,  with  small  rooms  and  nice  roses,  and  one  cow 
and  some  hens ;  and  then  I  just  thought  how  sweet  it  would  be  to  have 
mamma  and  papa,  and  all  my  brothers  and  sisters,  and  nephews  and  nieces, 
and  uncles  and  aunts,  all  to  live  together  for  a  long,  long  time,  and  to  lie  on 
the  grass  and  to  feed  the  pigs  and  the  little  hens,  and  dig  the  garden,  and 
make  our  own  clothes  and  shoes.  My  uncle  would  make  the  shoes  and  the 
clothes,  and  all  my  sisters  and  aunts  would  spin,  and  darling  George  and 
Donald  would  write  poetry  and  work  in  the  garden  and  sing,  and  dear  papa 
and  mamma  would  sit  in  large  arm  chairs  and  give  us  their  blessing  every 
morning  and  evening,  and  tell  us  nice  stories  about  the  Highlands,  and  I 
would  keep  accounts  and  everything  in  order !  Everything  would  be  with- 
in ourselves.  And  then  we  should  see  all  our  friends  and  relations,  quietly, 
comfortably,  and  there  would  be  no  bustle,  no  dirty  railroads  or  towns — all 
grass  and  vegetables  and  plenty.  My  blessing  upon  such  peaceful  domestic 
happiness!  I  know  my  venerated  father  will  rejoice  at  my  picture. 
I  never  meddle   with   politics   or   church  affairs.     It  does  no  one  good  I 

*A  favourite  terrier. 


LAST   YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  199 

think.  'Bless  mo,'  says  I  to  Elizabeth  Story,  'what  is  life  worth  if  we  can- 
not have  peace?  What  is  the  good  of  all  this  rant  and  bustle  V  '  It  rises 
my  nerves,'  says  she.  '  And  mine,  too,'  saj^s  I.  '  It's  no  wonder,'  says  she. 
'  'Deed  it  is  not,'  says  I.  '  It  would  be  a  wonder  if  it  didn't,'  says  she. 
'  Wouldn't  it1?'  says  I.  'In  course  it  would,'  says  she.  '  I  would  think  so,' 
says  I.  'And  no  one  would  differ  from  you,  sir,'  says  she.  '  I  believe  not,' 
says  I.  '  I  would  at  least  think  so,'  says  she.  '  I  am  certain  of  it,'  says  I. 
'  I  make  no  doubt  myself  at  all  of  it,'  says  she.  '  Nor  anybody  else,'  says  I, 
and  thus  we  spent  a  quiet,  peaceful,  calm  half-hour." 

The  beginning  of  this  year,  1851,  was  marked  by  two  events  which 
had  an  important  influence  on  his  future  life.  On  the  23rd  of  January 
he  heard,  with  great'  pain,  of  the  death  of  his  valued  friend,  Dr.  Black, 
minister  of  the  Barony,  Glasgow,  and  in  a  few  weeks  afterwards  he 
learned  that  the  congregation  were  anxious  that  he  should  be  presented 
to  the  vacant  parish.  Dr.  Black  had  on  his  death-bed  expressed  the 
desire  that  Norman  Macleod  should  succeed  him,  and  the  people  were 
now  unanimous  in  petitioning  Government  to  that  effect. 

To  his  Father  : — 

"January  3lst,  1851. 

"  I  mean  strictly  to  avoid  all  movement  on  my  own  part  in  regard  to  the 
Barony;  nor  do  I  wish  you  to  move  in  it.  The  session  and  people  know 
me.  They  are  acquainted  with  my  preaching  and  public  character.  If  the 
parish  is  offered  to  me  in  such  an  unanimous  way  as  will  satisfy  my  mind 
that  I  am  the  choice  of  the  parties  most  interested  in  obtaining  a  minister, 
I  shall  feel  it  my  duty  to  accept  it.  If  there  is  a  canvass  dividing  the  con- 
gregation, I  shah  forbid  my  name  to  be  mentioned.  I  am  willing  to  go  or 
stay,  as  God  shall  see  it  best  for  my  own  good,  and  the  good  of  souls." 

To  his  Mother  : — 

"1851. 

(  Believe  me  I  am  disciplined  to  be  a  far  more  peaceful  man  than  I  was. 
My  ambition  has  been  sobered  by  experience.  I  know  what  I  am  not  and 
what  I  am.  I  am  not  a  man  of  genius,  or  of  power,  or  of  learning,  and  can 
do  nothing  great  in  the  world's  sense  ;  but  by  the  grace  of  God  I  can  be  kind 
and  good,  and  earnest  and  useful ;  and  can  bring  the  souls  of  dying  men  to 
their  Saviour  for  rest  and  peace.  If  God  gives  me  the  ten  talents  of  the 
Barony,  I  shall  not  receive  them  with  fear  as  if  He  were  a  hard  master, 
but  with  solemn  thankfulness  and  humble  praise,  hoping  by  His  grace  to 
make  them  ten  talents  more.     So,  dear,  your  prayers  have  been  heard." 

In  the  following  month,  and  while  the  question  of  the  Barony  was 
still  in  suspense,  the  unexpected  tidings  reached  him  that  John  Mac- 
kintosh was  dying  at  Tubingen.  There  was  no  man  on  earth  whom 
Norman  loved  more  tenderly,  and  the  news  overwhelmed  him.  All 
other  engagements  were  at  once  thrown  aside,  and  on  the  11th  of 
February  he  started  for  the  Continent.  It  had  been  deemed  advisable 
to  remove  Mackintosh  from  Tubingen  to  the  picturesque  little  town  of 
Cannstadt,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Stuttgart,  and  Norman  remained 


200  LIFE  OF  IS  OILMAN  MACLEOD. 

there  until  the  7th  of  March,  when  he  went  for  a  brief  visit  to  Dr. 
Earth,  the  famous  missionary,  at  Calw.  On  the  10th  he  returned  tc 
Cannstadt,  and  bade  farewell  to  Mackintosh  on  th»  morning  of  the 
11th.  That  very  evening,  with  a  swiftness  that  was  quite  unexpected, 
the  end  came,  and  while  Norman,  in  ignorance  of  the  event,  was  pro- 
secuting Ms  journey  homewards,  his  dearest  brother  had  entered  ink 
rest. 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  February  7. — This  has  beer  a  day  of  heavy  affliction,  for  I  heard  of  the 
death-sickness  of  my  darling  John  Mackintosh — my  more  than  friend — ,a 
part  of  my  own  soul. 

'•This  day  also  brought  intelligence  of  what  I  was  led  to  expect;  that 
there  is  such  perfect  unanimity  among  the  Barony  people  as  will  insure  me 
the  parish.  But  to  enter  it  over  the  body  of  my  dear  friend  Dr.  Black,  and 
John  dying  !    Oh,  my  Father  !  teach  me  ! 

u  My  dear  friend  !  Never,  never  have  I  known  his  equal,  never  !  So 
pure,  so  true  and  genuine,  so  heavenly-minded  and  serene,  so  young  and 
joyous,  yet  so  old  and  sober ;  so  loving  and  utterly  unselfish,  a  beautiful, 
beautiful  character ;  the  modesty  and  tenderness  of  a  gentle  girl,  #vith  the 
manly  courage  of  a  matured  Christian ;  knowing  the  world,  yet  not  of  it ; 
mingling  in  it  with  a  great  broad-heartedness,  yet  unstained  by  a  single 
spot ;  warm  and  refreshing  and  life-giving  as  the  sun,  yet  uncontaminated 
by  all  it  shone  on.  But  I  cannot  utter  my  reverential  and  loving  feelings 
towards  my  dearest  and  best ;  and  can  it  be  that  he,  he  is  dying !  I  feel  the 
whole  earth  slipping  away  from  me  and  only  Jesus  remaining. 

"  Tuesday,  February  11. — This  day  I  intend  going  to  Tubingen  to  see  my 
clear  John.  I  am  not  conscious  of  any  selfish  motive,  unless  the  craving 
desire  to  see,  help,  and  comfort,  and,  it  may  be,  bid  fare  well  to  my  dearest 
friend  be  selfishness. 

"  What  shall  be  the  end  thereof]" 

To  John  Mackintosh,  at  Cannstadt  (written  after  leaving  him  on  the  Friday,  March 
7th,  to  return  on  the  Monday  morning  to  spend  his  last  day  with  him): — 

"  Calw,  half -past  five  p.m.,  Friday,  March  1th,  1851. 

'  Well,  darling  John  !  More  for  my  own  comfort  than  yours,  yet  also  to 
cheer  you  up  a  bit,  1  embrace  the  first  moment  given  me  to  tell  you  my 
news.  Like  the  woman  who  shows  Roslin  Chapel,  I  must  begin  at  the  be- 
ginning— i.e.,  from  Stuttgart. 

"  I  found  myself  at  half-past  nine  in  an  Eilwagen  with  two  horses,  and 
no  passenger  but  myself.  Opposite  me  was  an  old  conductor  who  had  grown 
grey  in  the  service  of  that  mysterious  Prince  of  Thurn  und  Taxis,  whose 
dominions  seem  to  be  Eihoagem  and  extra  posts,  and  his  subjects  Schiqagevs 
and  conductors.  My  companion  was  most  agreeable  ;  blessed  me  when  I 
sneezed,  offered  me  Schnapps  from  his  Husk,  and  gladly  took  the  half  of  my 
dinner  from  me,  by  way  of  showing  his  love  to  me.  He  was  a  thorough 
Swabian,  and  therefore  I  did  not  always  understand  him,  but  I  managed  by 
a  series  of  nods,  intimating,  'I  wouldn't  wonder,'  'I  suppose  so,'  to  impiess 
him  profoundly  with  my  intelligelice. 


LAST    YE AllS  AT  DALKEITH.  201 

"  The  road  was  uphill,  the  day  cold,  and  very  snowy.  The  scenery  con- 
sisted of  bare  white  fields,  with  cloaks  and  hats  of  fir  plantations,  here  and 
there  a  steeple.  I  passed  through  sundry  villages,  hut  I  hardly  know  yet 
where  I  am.  Calw  is  in  some  valley  beside  some  river,  having  streets, 
Uaxt/tiufsrr,  and  magistrates;  and,  it  is  said,  four  thousand  inhabitants. 
The  whole  city  is  for  the  present  concentrated  in  dear  Dr.  Earth.  He  re- 
ceived me  with  open  arms,  hugged  me,  kissed  me,  and  did  my  heart  a 
power  of  good  in  five  minutes.  He  had  an  excellent  dinner  waiting  and 
two  friends  to  meet  me. 

"  For  the  last  hour  I  have  been  enjoying  the  dear  man's  society  and  ex- 
amining his  house,  and  I  assure  you  it  is  worth  a  visit.  He  has  a  suite  of 
five  rooms,  entering  one  into  the  other.  The  first  is  a  bedroom;  the  second 
a  sitting-room;  the  third  his  study  ;  the  fourth  a  nice  bedroom  ;  the  fifth  a 
missionary  museum.  A  more  jolly  ideal  housey  you  never  were  in ! 
Everything  about  it  enlarges  the  mind,  and  drives  one's  thoughts  to  every 
part  of  the  globe.  The  pictures  of  missionaxles  and  mission  scenes  that 
cover  the  walls  of  the  rooms,  the  maps,  plans,  books,  all  are  enlarging  to- 
the  spirit.  The  very  clock  which  is  now"  ticking  beside  me  is  itself  a  poem. 
It  lias  in  its  dial  one  large  watch  surrounded  by  four  small  ones.  The  mid- 
dle one  counts  German  time.  The  others  the  time  at  Pekin,  Otaheite, 
New  Ybi-k,  and  Jerusalem  !  At  this  moment  it  is  a  quarter  to  six  here  ; 
five  minutes  to  one  a.m.  in  Pekin  (the  emperor  snores  ! )  ;  half-past  seven 
p.m.  in  Jerusalem  (the  sun  is  shining  softly  on  Olivet)  ;  a  quarter-past  six 
in  Otaheite  ;  ten  minutes  past  mid-day  in  money-making  New  York.  (Wall 
Street  is  full  of  business  !) 

"  The  missionary  museum  is  exceedingly  interesting.  It  would  take 
days  to  examine  it  fully.  The  fruits,  dresses,  minerals,  idols,  &c,  are  from 
mission  stations.  One  little  trifle  struck  me.  It  was  a  bit  of  pure  white 
marble  from  the  basement  stone  of  Solomon's  temple.  It  shows,  I  think, 
that  the  whole  temple  must  have  been  of  white  marble  (which  I  never 
knew  before) ;  and  if  so.  how  pure,  how  glorious  in  the  sun's  rays — what 
a  beautiful  type  of  Christ's  Church  ! 

"  Dr.  Earth  received  a  letter  at  dinner-time  from  the  Bishop  of  Jeru- 
salem. He  keeps  up  a  correspondence  with  missionaries  in  all  parts  of  the 
world,  and  knows  more  of  the  men  and  their  missions  than  any  other  man 
living. 

"Nine  p.m. — We  have  had  much  delightful  conversation  re^ardins;  niis- 
sions  and  missionaries.  Our  very  supper  tasted  of  the  work,  for  it  consist- 
ed of  reindeer  tongue  sent  by  the  Labrador  missionaries  ! 

"  And  now,  darling,  I  must  stop.  You  know  how  much  my  thoughts,  my 
prayers,  my  heart  and  spirit,  all  are  with  you.  Every  hour  the  parting 
becomes  more  real,  more  solemn.  Nothing  keeps  up  my  heart  but  that 
which  keeps  up  your  own — '  It  is  God's  will — His  sweet  will ! ' 

"  How  glorious,  how  intensely  blessed,  to  feel  that  we  are  in  Christ,  all 
of  us  !  Oh,  those  blessed  days  I  have  passed  with  you  ! — Heaven,  in  spite 
of  all  darkness.  Is  it  memory  already  1  It  is  not.  I  am  with  you,  beside 
you,  among  you  all.  Oh,  my  dearest  of  brothers,  may  Jesus  shine  on  you 
day  and  night,  and  may  you  shine  through  His  indwelling.  God  bless  you, 
dearest.     Farewell." 


202  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

To  the  Same  : — 

"Carlsruhe,  Saturday  Evening,  half-past  six, 
March  8th,  1851. 
*'  Dearest  and  best  of  earthly  Brothers  ! 

"  I  left  dear  old  Earth  this  morning  at  ten.  I  do  think  that  he  and  his 
house  are  the  most  perfect  ideals  of  what  missionary  archbishops  should  be 
and  should  have.  Only  picture  the  old  fellow  resting  his  feet  on  a  stuffed 
tiger  from  Abyssinia,  giving  me  at  breakfast  honey  from  Jerusalem,  and 
a  parting  glass  of  wine  from  Lebanon  !  Is  it  not  perfect  1  And  then  his 
apostolic  look  and  conversation  !  What  a  busy  man  he  is  !  Besides  super- 
intending the  books  published  by  the  Calwer  Verein  (most  of  which  he  has 
written  himself),  he  edits  five  journals  monthly — one  for  the  young,  of 
eighty  pages  ;  and  four  missionary  journals  making  fifty  six  pages  ,  in  all, 
one  hundred  and  thirty-six  pages  every  month  !  His  books  have  been 
translated  into  seventeen  different  languages.  It  is  really  most  ennobling 
and  elevating  to  one's  spirit  to  see  that  old  man,  so  plain  and  simple,  yet, 
there  in  his  humble  house,  corresponding  with  every  part  of  the  globe, 
watching  day  by  day  the  spread  of  Christ's  kingdom,  visiting  with  his  spirit 
and  heart  every  scene  of  missionary  labour,  and  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
them  all.  This  is  being  a  king  indeed.  Surely  '  we  can  make  our  lives 
sublime '  by  doing  the  work  Christ  has  given  us.  I  think  Barth  is*  more  of 
a  prince,  a  governor,  a  general,  than  any  of  the  reigning  monarchs  of  Europe. 
He  has  made  me  feel  more  how  grand  and  gloiious  a  position  in  the  uni- 
verse a  true-hearted  minister  may  occupy.  May  God  make  me  such,  and 
'I  shall  pity  Caesar.' 

"  Well,  dear,  after  embracing  and  re-embracing,  I  parted  very  thankful. 
He  loves  you  very  much,  and  it  was  such  a  comfort  to  have  one  with  me 
who  did  so,  and  who,  with  me,  would  thank  our  most  gracious  Lord  in  your 
behalf. 

"I  got  into  a  half-open  cab  at  ten.  It  was  snowing  and  very  cold,  and 
we  contemplated  taking  a  sledge.  But  the  Schwager  promised  he  would 
convey  me  safely.  The  road  was  execrable.  Nothing  out  of  the  backwoods 
worse.  We  took  three  and  a  half  hours  to  drive  twelve  miles.  It  lay 
at  first  along  a  valley  which  must  be  exquisite  in  summer,  and  then  passed 
up  and  over  a  high  hill,  thick  with  trees,  which  showered  the  snow  upon  us 
as  their  branches  swept  over  the  cab.  Once  or  twice  I  made  up  my  mind 
for  a  jolly  good  upset,  but  the  Schwaje7\  by  hanging  on  occasionally  on  the 
up-side,  preserved  the  equilibrium." 

To :— 

"Off  Maintz,  ten  o'clock,  JVednn.sdriy,  March  Vlth,  1851. 

"  How  my  spirit  lingers  in  that  lonely  room  where  I  was  last  with  him 
befoi'e  five  yesterday  morning  1  It  was  very  solemn  and  very  memorable. 
The  candle  was  in  the  other  room,  and  I  asked  him  in  the  dark  how  he  was. 
He  had  passed  another  night  of  weary  tossings  to  and  fro.  Yet  to  hear 
him  say  in  the  darkness,  '  I  wish  I  could  sing !  I  should  give  glory  to 
God  !'  I  feel  that  we  have  taken  in  but  very  partially  the  heaven-sent  les- 
son taught  us  in  that  beautiful  character.  But  such  a  lesson  can  only  be 
truly  learned  by  a  patient  and  cheerful  following  of  Christ,  seeing  what  He 
would  have  us  outwardly  do  and  inwardly  be.      To  see,  to  do,  to  be,  requires 


LAST   YEARS  AT  DALKEITH,  203 

that  right  state  of  spirit  which  is  maintained  by  a  daily  waiting  on  Christ 
and  a  strengthening  of  our  faith  in  Him,  as  our  only  sure  and  our  best 
<mide  in  all  things,  as  giving  us  in  everything  the  best  tilings  for  us,  and  in 
His  own  way.  It  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  impose  burdens  on  ourselves,  to 
whip  ourselves  with  cords,  or  to  cast  ourselves  on  a  funeral  pile.  God  is 
rich  in  mercy,  and  He  may  sanctify  us  by  what  He  gives  as  well  as  by 
what  He  takes  away  ;  nor  is  it  necessary  for  us  to  pain  our  hearts  by  de- 
termining what  we  shall  do  in  such  and  such  circumstances.  The  Lord 
shuts  us  up  to  one  thing  :  '  Do  what  is  right ;  if  you  wish  it,  I  will  teach 
thee.'  Each  day  has  its  own  duties,  and  trials,  and  difficulties.  God  does 
not  tell  us  to  take  care  of  the  week,  month,  or  year,  but  of  the  day  or  hour  ; 
not  of  the  next  possible  mile  of  the  journey,  but  of  the  certain  step  which 
must  be  taken  for  the  present.  We  require  grace  to  receive  His  mercies 
as  much  as  to  receive  His  chastisements  ;  in  neither  case  to  doubt  His  love, 
never  to  think  He  gives  the  former  grudgingly,  or  the  other  severely. 

"  I  had  a  superb  sleep  last  night ;  but,  what  was  very  odd,  I  started  up 
and  lit  my  candle  the  very  minute  (twenty  minutes  to  five)  at  which  John's 
bell  had  rung  on  Tuesday  morning." 

To  the  Same  :— 

♦  '•  Passing  the  Sicbcn-Gebirgc. 

"  I  have  really  had  a  happy  day  toddling  down  this  glorious  stream.  The 
sun  was  bright,  and  things  looked  tolerable.  I  cannot  say  that  any  poetic 
feeling  was  stirred  up.  The  castles  in  spite  of  me  suggested  vulgar  impres- 
sions of  immense  barons,  all  boots  and  beards,  rioting  and  drinking,  and 
thinking  only  how  Baron  A.  could  be  swindled  or  Baron  D.  murdered ; 
what  Tochter  la  Baronne  E.  had,  and  whether  she  could  be  purchased  for 
the  hopeful,  turnip-faced,  blustering  young  Baron  Swillingbeer.  Then  those 
vineyards  are  indissolubly  interwoven  in  the  fancy  with  tables-d'hote.  The 
imagination  pictures  myriads  of  drinkers  in  all  lands  longing  to  suck  their 
juices.  The  whole  land  seems  to  be  robbed  from  poetry  and  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  consigned  for  ever  to  barrels  and  wine-bibbers.  There  was  not  an 
Englishman  on  board,  and  that  relieved  the  prose  a  little. 

"  I  met  two  girls  who  were  emigrating  to  America.  How  happy  they 
were,  poor  things,  when  I  told  them  that  I  had  been  in  the  town  to  which 
they  were  going,  and  that  it  was  so  handsome,  and  that  they  would  go 
across  the  ocean  as  easy  as  to  Stuttgart,  for  thence  they  came,  and  my  heart 
was  stirred  for  them  ;  and  then  (good  creatures)  they  asked  me  if  I  had 
met  their  Schwager.  I  told  them,  possibly.  They  at  once  treated  me  as  a 
brother,  and  showed  me  their  letters.  I  really  made  them  very  happy  by 
my  pictures  of  the  calm  ocean  and  glorious  America. 

"  I  had  a  long  talk  with  an  old  sailor  on  board,  quite  a  character.  I 
opened  his  heart  with  cigars,  and  he  was  very  communicative.  He  spoke  in 
broken  sentences,  each  delivered  in  an  under  voice  very  confidentially  to 
me,  while  he  always  turned  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  kept  his  elbows  by  his 
side,  and  wriggled  his  wrists  as  if  a  thousand  mysteries  lay  far  beyond  his 
brief  communications.  '  An  old  cloister  that — hate  the  priests — ceremonies 
{many  wriggles) — the  best  cloister  is  the  heart  (great  confidence).  Stop  her  ! 
(to  the  engineer).  Democrats  !  (fearful  wriggles) — ihe  Jesuits  did  the  whole. 
In  old  times  they  forgave  the  sins  of  thieves  and  murderers,'  and  he  ran 


204  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

off,  looking  over  his  shoulders,  winking  hard,  and  his  two  hands  in  per- 
petual motion.  Soon  I  felt  a  tap  on  my  back — '  The  Protestant  ministers 
not  much  better — too  learned — don't  care  for  the  people — they  give  words 
—words — but  what  do  they  V  (wrists,  eyes,  all  going,  mid  immense  con- 
fidence.) 'The  people  are  best.  Ach,  Herr,  we  must  make  the  heart  our 
church — minister — all — and  love  God  and  man.'  He  darted  off  to  take 
soundings.  I  left  him,  but  we  are  yet  to  smoke  together.  Oh,  this  great 
heart  of  humanity  !  How  grand  it  ever  is  when  it  is  real !  What  a  magni- 
ficent study  is  man,  and  how  elevating  at  all  times  to  realise  one's  brother- 
hood, to  vise  like  a  hill  above  the  earth's  surface,  and  to  converse  with  other 
hills,  and  to  feel  that  both  are  rooted  in  the  common  earth,  and  are  beneath 
the  same  sun,  and  are  refreshed  with  the  same  dew  ! 

"  While  I  thus  write,  partly  to  relieve  my  own  heart  and  partly  to  take 
your  thoughts  for  five  minutes  from  your  present  sorrows,  I  am  dragged 
back  to  the  dear  group  at  Cannstadt. 

"  Perhaps  this  may  find  you  in  the  midst  of  more  than  ordinary  sorrow, 
when  amusing  words  will  sicken  you.  But  it  may  be  quite  otherwise.  Oh  ! 
trust,  trust.  Dearer,  infinitely  dearer,  is  he  to  his  own  Lord  and  brother 
than  he  can  be  to  us." 


Surely  'tis  all  a  dream  !     Is  this  the  Rhine  ? 
Is  this  majestic  pile  of  ruin  old  St.  Goar  ] 
That  far-off  rush  of  water  Lurlei's  roar  1 
Oh,  what  a  joyous  life  of  lives  was  mine, 
When  those  dear  castled  hills  of  clustering  vine 
First  flashed  upon  me  in  the  days  of  yore  ! 
Such  glorious  visions  I  can  see  no  more  ! 
For  though  within  a  holier  light  doth  shine, 
Yet  this  deep  sorrow  veils  it  as  a  cloud, 
Casting  from  shore  to  shore  a  sombre  shroud, 
That  scarce  a  trace  of  the  old  life  is  found. 
Into  one  wish  my  thoughts  and  feelings  blend, 
To  be  with  those  dear  mourners  who  surround 
The  dying-bed  of  my  best  earthly  friend." 


From  his  Jouiinal  : — 

"Dalkeith,  April  11. 

"  Sly  memory  can  never  require  to  be  refreshed  by  a  record  of  those 
memorable  days  of  intense  life,  when  days  were  years,  and  hours  months. 
For  ever  shall  I  vividly  remember  the  rushing  journey,  the  burning  fever 
of  morbid  anxiety  as  I  hurried  on  and  on  from  this  to  the  Rhine — along 
that  river  darkened  by  mist — from  the  Rhine  to  Stuttgart,  and  then  by 
moonlight,  which  seemed  to  light  me  to  my  grave,  to  Tubingen,  until  after 
midnight  I  stood  outside  Ids  door  and  had  some  rest,  when  I  felt  he  was 
there.  Shall  I  ever  forget  the  meeting  %  the  horror  of  darkness  followed  by 
prayer,  by  hopes,  by  heavenly  gleams  from  unexpected  sources,  by  fears  and 
sore  stragglings.  And  then  his  room,  and  our  daily  on-goings,  the  screen, 
the  big  chair,  the  table  with  its  books,  watch,  thermometer,  the  stove,  him- 
self seated  on  the  bed,  tlfe  brown  plaid,  the  shut  eyes,  the  head  inclined  to 
one  side,  the  peaceful  Binile,  the  resigned  and  meek  look,  the  'dearie'  kiss, 


LAST   YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  205 

the  whispered  holy  things,  the  drawing-room  too,  an  1  the  piano,  the 
life  in  death,  the  sunshine  'that  never  was  on  sea  or  land.'  Then  came 
Tuesday,  the  11th,  and  at  early  dawn  the  last  farewell,  while  at  evening 
thou  wast  with  thy  Father!" 

To :— 

"  Dalkeith,  Swiday. 

"All  hail!  The  Lord  is  risen.  The  world  is  redeemed,  and  that  coffin 
shall  be  broken,  and  that  darling  body  be  glorified,  and  we  shall  be  with 
him  and  all  in  Christ  forever.  And,  oh,  the  calm  joy  of  assurance,  deep 
as  in  the  existence  of  God,  that  on  this  lovely  spring  Sabbath,  when  flowers 
are  bursting  forth,  and  birds  are  singing,  ami  the  sun  is  shining,  in  this 
world  of  sin  and  death,  he,  our  beloved  darling,  is  really  in  life  and 
strength  and  intelligence  and  unutterable  joy,  remembering  us  all,  ami 
waiting  for  us !  Will  he  not  feel  so  at  home  1  Is  he  not  breathing  his 
own  delicious  air  ?  I  see  him  now  with  a  sunny  look  of  joy,  gazing  on  his 
Lord,  praising  Him,  meeting  every  moment  some  new  acquaintance — new, 
yet  old.     Oh  !  this  is  not  death  ;  it  is  life  !  'life  abundantly.'  " 

To  the  Same  : — 

"Tuesday,  17  th  March. — What  can  man  say  or  do  1  Leaving  Cann- 
stadt,  leaving  it  in  such  silent  company  !  My  spirit  is  with  you  all  day, 
often,  often  in  the  watches  of  the  night.  At  four  this  morning  I  was 
praying  for  you." 

To  the  Same  :  — 

"  Wednesday  Afternoon. — I  have  been  thinking  much  of  that  luggage 
and  those  things  of  his.  It  is  strange,  inexpressibly  strange  to  see  dead 
things  only,  and  not  to  see  the  living  one.  Yet  was  it  not  so  when  Christ 
rose  1  The  linen  clothes  and  the  napkin,  left  in  order  behind,  and  He 
gone  !  But  our  dear  one  lives  !  and  I  can  so  well  fancy  him  smiling  at 
those  poor  remembrances  of  sin  and  sorrow,  which  are  nevertheless  to  us 
signs  of  faith  triumphant  in  death.  I  am  sure  when  our  day  of  death 
comes,  if  we  have  time  to  think,  the  room  at  Cannstadt  will  be  strength 
to  us." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"April  11th. — We  buried  him  on  Wednesday  last,  the  9th.  The  day 
was  calm  and  beautiful.  The  sky  was  blue,  with  a  few  fleecy  clouds.  The 
birds  were  singing  :  everything  seemed  so  holy  and  peaceful.  His  coffin 
was  accompanied  by  those  who  loved  him.  As  I  paced  beside  him  to  his 
List  resting  place,  I  felt  a  holy  joy  as  if  marching  beside  a  noble  warrior 
receiving  his  final  honours.  Oh,  how  harmonious  seemed  his  life  and 
death  !  I  felt  as  if  he  was  still  alive,  as  if  he  still  whispered  in  my  ear, 
and  ~11  he  said — for  he  seemed  only  to  repeat  his  favourite  sayings — was  in 
beautiful  keeping  with  this  last  stage  of  his  journey  : — '  It  is  His  own 
sweet  will;'  'Dearie,  wre  must  be  as  little  children;'  'We  must  follow 
Christ,'  and  so  he  seemed  to  resign  himself  meekly  to  be  borne  to  his  grave, 
to  smile  upon  us  all  in  love  as  he  was  lowered  down,  and  as  the  earth 
covered  him  from  our  sight,  it  was  as  if  he  said,  '  Father!  Thou  hast  appointed 


206  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

all  men  once  to  die.  Thy  sweet  will  be  done !  I  yield  to  Thine  appointment! 
My  Saviour  has  gone  before  me  ;  as  a  little  child  I  follow !'  And  there  we 
laid  him  and  rolled  the  sod  over  him.  Yet  the  birds  continued  to  sing,  and 
the  sun  to  shine,  and  the  hills  to  look  down  on  us.  But  long  after  earth's 
melodies  have  ceased,  and  the  mountains  departed,  and  the  sun  vanished, 
that  body  shall  live  in  glory,  and  that  beautiful  spirit  be — 

"  '  A  Memnon  singing  in  the  great  God  light.' 

"  '  0,  sir,  the  good  die  first ; 
And  those  whose  hearts  are  dry  as  summer's  dust 
Burn  to  the  socket  !' 

"  O  God  of  infinite  grace,  help  me — help  us,  weak,  trembling,  infirm, 
ignorant,  to  cleave  fast  to  Thee  in  all  Thy  ways — to  be  led  by  Thy  Spirit 
in  whatever  way  He  teaches  us.  and  to  glorify  Thee  in  body  and  soul,  by 
life  or  by  death.      Amen." 

"  July. — This  is  my  last  Sabbath  in  Dalkeith,  and  this  Sabbath  ends  an- 
other great  era  in  my  life. 

"  The  last  six  months  have  been  to  me  concentrated  life.  I  have  lived 
intensely.  I  have  lived  ages- — all  ending  with  my  bidding  farewell  this  day 
to  a  devoted  and  loving  people  !  When  I  glance  over  the  last  twenty  years 
I  think  I  have  some  idea  of  life  in  its  most  striking,  wild,  and  out-of-the- 
way  phases.  I  fancy  I  have  seen  it  in  its  strangest  hues,  and  into  its  depths 
more  than  most  people ;  often  too  much  so  for  my  own  happiness.'' 

Letters  to : — 


"  It  is  often  as  difficult  for  me  to  think  of  making  happiness  without 
*  conditions'  as  it  is  for  you,  perhaps  much  more  so ;  but  we  know  that  if 
we  really  yield  ourselves  to  God's  teaching  within  and  without — in  our 
hearts  and  in  our  circumstances — and  know  that  it  is  His  will,  and  not 
ours  merely,  i.e.,  that  it  must  be,  or  ought  to  be,  (for  with  Christians  must 
and  ought  are  one)  then  we  shall  have  peace,  for  we  shall  have  fellowship 
with  the  will  of  God.     You  cannot  feel  yourself  more  an  infant  than  I  do. 

"...  What  is  devotedness  1  It  is  not  a  giving  up,  but  a  full,  and  com- 
plete receiving  in  the  best  possible  way  (i.e.,  in  God's  way)  of  the  riches  of 
His  bounty.  It  is  being  first  in  sympathy  with  God,  judging  and  choosing, 
rejoicing  with  Him  ;  and  then  consequently  resting  satisfied  with  all  He 
wills  us  to  be,  to  do,  to  receive,  give  up,  suffer  or  enjoy  " 

To  the  Same  : — 

"Sunday  2?ig?it 

"  Duties  are  the  education  for  eternity,  which  is  endless  duty. 

"  Our  pleasures  are  in  exact  proportion  to  our  duties. 

"  All  religion  is  summed  up  in  one  little  word,  Love.  God  asks  this  , 
we  cannot  give  more,  He  cannot  take  less. 

"  I  have  been  reading  Luther's  '  Ilaiis-Postille,'  and  have  been  much 
amused  by  his  hits  against  false  monkish  humility. 

"  It  is  not  humility  to  ignore  whatever  good  God  gives  us  or  makes  of 
us ;  but  to  receive  all  from  Him,  thank  Him  for  all,  and  use  all  according 
to  His  permission  or  command. 

ft  So  let  that  keep  us  m>,  and  guide  us." 


LAST   YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  207 

To  the  Same  :— 

"May  29. 

"  .  .  Oh  for  the  clear  eye  to  discern  those  eras  in  life,  those  turn- 
ing points,  and  to  hear  the  voice  of  love  and  wisdom  and  holiness,  (l>y  hints- 
unmistakable  by  the  pure  mind),  saying,  '  this  is  the  way,  walk  in  it !'  Oh 
for  the  humble  heart  to  fall  into  God's  plan,  whatever  it  be,  be  it  life  or 
death  ! 

"  .  It  will  soon  be  all   over  with  me — at  most   twenty  or  thirty 

years.     Let  me  bravely  do  my  duty,  and  then,  Hurrah  ! 

"  After  leaving  you  I  went  to  the  Assembly,  and  then  wen+  :"  cr"-  } 
my  poor  invalid.  Got  the  house  with  some  trouble  ;  and  then  where  next/ 
To  his  grave.  And  there,  with  many  tears  and  many  prayers,  I  did  get 
much  peace.  The  sunlight  from  that  holy  spot  comes  over  me.  I  heard 
him  speak  to  me — '  Be  as  a  little  child  !  Follow — do  not  lead.  Live  in 
the  Spirit  !'  Yes,'  I  said,  '  yes,  darling,  thou  wouldst  say  the  same  things 
now,  and  maybe  thou  art  near  me.'  And  I  blessed  God  for  his  words — 
earnestly  prayed  that  they  might  be  realized  ;  and  they  shall  be.  We  shall 
follow  his  faith.  If  we  liked  to  please  him  on  earth — much  more  now. 
But  we  have  a  better  Brother — our  own  Lord — with  us.  To  please  Him 
in  all  things  is  Heaven  ,  to  displease  Him,  Hell !" 

To  the  Same,  after  preaching  his  "trial"  sermon 
in  the  Barony : — 

"Glasgow,  May  18,  1851.     Sunday  Evening. 

"Another  milestone  in  this  awful  journey  is  over — another  bend  in  the 
great  stream  has  swept  me  nearer  the  unfathomable  gulf. 

"  I  had  such  a  crowd — passages,  stairs,  up  to  the  roof !  That  is  but  a 
means,  not  an  end.  Yes  !  I  had  one  of  those  high  days  which  sometimes 
are  granted  to  me ;  when  I  feel  the  grandeur  of  my  calling  and  forget  man, 
except  as  an  immortal  and  accountable  being ;  when  the  heart  is  subdued, 
awed,  blessed  !  I  believe  souls  were  stirred  up  to  seek  God.  I  was  dread- 
fully wearied — clone  up — but  I  cared  not.  I  felt,  'the  night  cometh — 
work  !'  Is  it  not  strange — and  yet  it  is  not — that,  as  usual,  the  moment  I 
entered  the  pulpit  and  saw  that  breathless  crowd,  Oannstadt  arose  before  me, 
and  remained  there  all  the  day  !  He  was  a  vision  haunting  me,  yet  sobering 
me,  elevating  me  ;  pointing  always  upward ,  so  purifying,  so  solemnising 
and  sanctifying ;  and  I  felt  dear  friends  with  me,  bidding  me  be  good  and 
holy  ;  and  when  the  great  song  of  praise  arose,  my  heart  rose  with  it,  and  I 
felt  all  that  is  good  will  live,  and  shall  have  a  great,  an  endless,  and  blessed 
day  in  Heaven.  On  earth  I  know  not  what  may  be.  God's  will  be  done  ! 
*  *  *  *  * 

'*  As  to  distraction  in  prayer,  how  /  know  this,  and  have  to  struggle 
against  it !  but  it  is  not  good,  and  dare  not  be  allowed,  but  must  be  con- 
cpiered. 

"  To  dc  this.  (1)  Have  a  fixed  time  for  prayer ;  (2)  Pray  earnestly  at  com- 
mencement against  it ,  (3)  Divide  the  prayer,  so  as  to  have  confession  for 
a  few  minutes,  then  thanksgiving,  &c.  This  gives  relief  to  the  strain  on  the 
mind.  I  speak  as  a  man  who  looks  back  with  horror  at  my  carelessness  in 
secret  prayer-.     Backsliding  begins  in  the  closet,  and  ends — where  !" 


208  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

To  the  Same  :— 

"Dalkeith,  Saturday  Morning. 

"  I  think  that  Baxter's  seventh  chapter  in  the  '  Saints'  Rest '  is  something 
far,  far  beyond  even  himself.  One  should  get  it  by  heart ;  it  is  such  a 
chapter  as  that — so  earnest,  so  searching,  so  awfully  solemn  and  true — 
which  humbles,  and  stirs  up,  and  makes  one  feel  intensely  '  I  have  not  yet 
attained,'  and  resolve  more  firmly  to  do  this  '  one  thing,' — press  on,  and  on  ! 
Why,  what  do  we  expect1?  To  be  glorified  with  Christ!  equal  with  St. 
John  and  St.  Paul — this  or  devils !  To  press  on  is  to  realise  more  blessed- 
ness and  glory,  more  joy  and  perfect  peace  !  Oh,- how  weak  I  am — a  very, 
very  babe !     But  it  required  Omnipotence  to  make  me  a  babe." 

To  the  same  :— 

"Dalkeith,  Sunday  Evening. 

"  What  a  day  of  hail  and  snow  !  I  was  so  struck  at  one  time  to-day. 
The  heavens  were  dark  ;  the  hail  came  booming  down,  and  rushed  along  the 
ground  like  foam  snatched  by  the  storm-blast  from  a  wintry  ocean;  but  the 
moment  it  ceased,  there  was  such  a  sweet  blink  of  sunshine,  and  instantly 
the  woods  were  full  of  melody  from  a  whole  choir  of  blackbirds !  We,  too, 
should  sing  when  the  storm  is  over  ! — but  why  do  we  not  beat  the  birds, 
and  sing  while  it  lasts?  'Are  we  not  better  than  the  fowls? — yet  God  careth 
for  them!' 

"  I  have  preached  in  England  and  Ireland,  America  and  the  Continent, 
in  all  sorts  of  places  on  sea  and  land,  in  huts  and  palaces,  to  paupers  and  to 
nobles — I  sometimes  feel  a  curiosity  to  know  the  results  !  and  I  shall  know 
them  !  It  is  a  noble,  a  glorious  work  !  I  praise  God  for  giving  me  siuh  a 
'  talent,'  and  only  pray  that  while  I  preach  to  others  I  may  not  be  a  casta- 
way !     But,  no  !  I  know  I  shall  not — praise  to  his  omnipotent  Grace  ! 

"  I  have  for  years  been  a  very  busy  man,  but  I  never  for  an  hour 
sought  for  work — it  was  always  given  to  me.  I  know  your  active  spirit  is 
one  of  the  features  of  your  character,  but  be  patient,  and  only  by  God's 
grace  keep  your  mind  in  that  most  necessary  state — which  will  discern  the 
Lord's  voice  when  He  calls.  I  have  great  faith  in  what  I  call  signs — inde 
scribable  hints,  palpable  hints,  that  '  this  is  the  way,  walk  ye  in  it.'  One  can- 
not, before  they  come,  tell  what  they  shall  be  ;  but  when  the  '  fulness  of  the 
time'  comes  when  the  Lord  has  appointed  us  to  do  anything,  something  or 
other  occurs  that  comes  home  instantaneously  to  us  with  the  conviction,  'the 
Lord's  time  has  come  !     I  have  to  do  this  ! '  " 

To  the  Same  : — 

•  10^  p.m.  Sunday. 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  all  I  have  been  doing  to-day  ? 

"  I  went  to  bed  at  one  (a.m.),  for  my  time  had  been  broken  up  all  day, 
and  in  the  evening  I  did  the  honours  to .  By  the  way,  in  all  our  judg- 
ments and  criticisms  of  people,  we  should  ever  see  them  in  their  true 
relationships  to  us.  The  world  has  one  set  of  rules,  the  Church  another. 
Distinguish  between  gifts  and  endowments,  and  the  use  which  is  made  of 
them.  See  things  in  their  spiritual  rather  than  their  earthly  relationships. 
I  do  not  say  that  one  can  entirely  forget  the  latter,  or  that  when  combined 
with  the  former  (I  mean  the  gift  with  the  grace)  they  do  not  make  God's 
creature  much  more  beautiful  ;  but  accustoming  ourselves  to  these  thoughts, 


LAST   YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  209 

our  judgments  and  mode  of  thinking  and  speaking  about  people  will  every 
day  be  modified  and  brought  by  degrees  into  greater  harmony  with  Cod's 
judgments.  I  have  had  sore  struggles  with  this  ;  but  intercourse  with  the 
good,  especially  among  the  working  classes,  lias  gradually  moulded  my  feel- 
ings   into  a  quieter  state.     And  how  lias  all  this  been  so  rapidly  suggested  1 

I  cannot  help  smiling,   yea  laughing,  at  poor having  been  the  cause  ! 

But  I  often  feel  sore  if  I  have  seemed  to  speak  unfeelingly  or  unkindly,  or 
in  a  worldly  way  of  any  one  or  for  any  cause,  who  I  feel  is  a  believer. 

"  I  am  only  at  one  in  the  morning  yet !  I  rose  at  half-past  seven,  read, 
&c.,  till  half-past  eight.  Went  to  my  Sabbath  school  at  nine.  Preached 
twice.  Went  in  the  evening  with  Jane  to  r-ead  part  of  my  sermon  to  dear 
Elizabeth  Patterson,  and  had  worship  there,  after  paying  a  visit  to  an  old 
woman,  who  I  believe  was  really  brought,  as  she  says  herself,  to  the  know- 
ledge of  Christ  by  me  when  she  was  sixty-three,  and  whom  I  admitted  for  tho 
fh'st  time  as  a  communicant !" 

To  the  Same  : — 

"  Tuesday  Evening,  June  26. 

"  By  fellowship  is  meant  one-mindedness,  sympathy,  agreement.  It  is 
not  the  submission  of  a  servant  to  a  command  because  it  is  a  command.  It 
is  more,  much  more  than  this.  It  is  the  sympathy  of  the  friend  with  the 
friend,  seeing  and  appreciating  his  character  and  plans,  and  entering  into 
them  with  real  heart  satisfaction.  It  is  the  '  amen,'  the  '  so  let  it  be,'  of  the 
spirit.  'I  have  not  called  you  servants,  but  friends.'  To  have  this  fellow- 
ship two  things  are  needed  :  first,  knowing  our  master's  will,  and  secondly, 
having  that  mind  and  spirit  in  us  which  necessarily  sympathises  with  it. 

"  It  is  delightful  to  stand  in  spirit  beside  Christ,  and  look  outwards  from 
that  central  point,  and  see  things  as  He  sees  them.  This  is  having  His 
'  light '  and  '  life,'  and  therefore  so  living  and  seeing  as  He  does  ;  and  while 
we  do  so,  He  has  fellowship  with  us  !  There  is  something  very  grand  I 
think  in  this  high  calling,  to  be  partakers  of  Christ's  mind  and  joy  !  It  is 
such  godlike  treatment  of  creatures  !  It  shows  the  immense  benevolence  of 
Christ,  to  create  us  so  as  to  lift  us  up  to  this  sublime  position,  to  make  us 
joint  heirs  with  Himself  in  all  this  intellectual  and  moral  greatness  and 
blessedness. " 

To  the  Same  :— 

"  Have  just  come  in  to  breathe  a  little  after  visiting  sick.  How  beauti- 
fully Christ's  example  meets  us  and  suits  us  in  everything.  In  visiting  the 
sick  poor  one  endures  innumerable  petty  sufferings  from  the  close  den,  bad 
air,  and  fifty  things  which  are  sometimes  almost  insufferable  to  our  senses 
and  tastes.  But  when  one  is  disposed  to  fly,  or  get  disgusted,  the  thought 
comes  of  His  washing  His  disciples'  feet,  and  living  among  wretched  men. 
'  He  who  was  rich' — from  whom  all  taste  and  the  perception  of  the  beauti- 
ful has  come  !  He  who  was  heir  of  all  things.  Yet,  with  His  human 
nature,  what  must  He  have  '  put  up  with '  in  love  ! 

'•  It  is  difficult  to  separate  the  real  from  the  accidental.  But  when  I  see 
a  poor,  ugly,  unlearned  Christian,  I  sometimes  think  that  if  the  heart  and 
spirit  remained  as  they  were — yet  if  that  face  by  some  magic  power  was 
made  beautiful,  that  tongue  made  to  speak  nicely,  that  form  made  elegant, 

14 


210  LIFE  OF  NOJiMAN  MACLEOD. 

the  manners  refined,  the  cottage  changed  to  a  palace,  in  short,  if  the  real 
person  was  put  in  a  better  case,  how  altered  would  all  seem.  So  in  the 
reverse,  if  George  IV.  had  a  squint  eye,  hump  hack,  ragged  clothes,  vulgar 
pronunciation,  manner,  <fcc,  what  a  revolution  !  Yet  will  there  not  be  a 
revolution  in  the  good  and  the  bad  like  this  1  Thus  you  see  I  try  and  idealize 
poor  Lizzie  S.,  and  some  of  my  poor  Christian  bodies,  and  if  possible  see 
kings  and  queens  shining  through  their  poor  raiment. 

"  You  never  beheld  a  more  peaceful,  lovely  evening.  Oh  !  it  is  heavenly. 
The  large  pear-tree  is  bursting  into  blossom,  the  willows  are  rich  yellow  in 
the  woods,  and  the  birds  arc  busy  with  their  nests. 

"  'Singing  of  summer  with  full-throated  ea;e. 

Everything  is  so  calm,  so  peaceful ;  why  is  not  man's  throbbing  heai't  equally 
calm  ?  Why  do  we  not  always  sing  with  the  birds,  and  shine  with  the  sun, 
and  laugh  with  the  streams,  and  play  with  the  breeze?  It  is,  I  suppose, 
because  much  sorrow  must  belong  to  man  ere  he  can  receive  much  joy. 
Yet  when  the  true  .  life  is  in  us,  there  is  always  a  sweet  undersong  of  joy 
in  the  heart ;  but  it  is  sometimes  unheard  amidst  the  strong  hurricane. 

"  The  calls  I  am  from  time  to  time  receiving  from  those  to  whom  I  have 
done  good  are  most  delightful.  I  begin  to  think  that  the  seed  has  taken 
better  root  than  I  had  thought.     Praise  God  for  it  !" 

To  the  Same  :— 

"Friday  Xiylit,   12$. 

u  Free  salvation.  Justification  by  faith  alone.  John  did  not  see  this 
for  a  time.  When  he  saw  it  the  burthen  was  removed  for  ever  !  Unbelief 
is  dishonouring  to  God.  You  glorify  Him  by  reposing  on  Him,  and  heartily 
trusting  Him  :  trusting  His  teaching  in  the  Word,  conscience  and  provi- 
dence. Remember  you  have  a  living  Saviour,  and  a  loving  one,  always  the 
same. 

"  Confess  Christ,  and  commend  the  gospel  by  calm  peace  as  well  as  by 
words.  Aim  at  passing  Christian  judgments  upon  things,  and  beware  of 
worldly  judgments.  Aim  at  seeing  persons  in  their  relation  to  Chiist,  and 
to  nothing  lower. 

"  I  have  had  two  days'  visitation  since  you  went  away.  You  have  no 
idea  of  the  overwhelming  interest  of  such  days  among  our  brothers  and 
sisters.  What  a  volume  of  intense  romance  each  day  contains  !  How  good, 
how  contented  it  makes  you ;  how  it  corrects  selfishness ;  how  deeply  it 
makes  you  feel  your  responsibility ;  what  treasure  you  lay  up !  Let  me 
see  ;  can  I  convey  to  you,  in  a  few  lines,  specimens  of  my  cases  ? 

"1.  A  husband  sick,  has  hardly  spoken  for  months  to  his  wife  and  family 
—  -selfish,  jealous;  I  got  them  reconciled;  promises  to  have  family  worship. '* 

"  2.  A  woman  in  low  spirits,  all  alone,  cried  bitterly  ;  jtold  me  in  agony 
she  frequently  planned  suicide.  Made  her  promise  to  go  through  a  course 
of  medicine,  and  always  to  come  to  me  when  ill. 

"  3.  A  bedridden  pauper — horrid  house. 

"  4.  An  infidel  tailor — very  intelligent.  Had  read  Alton,  Locke,  <fec. 
An  hour  with  hitn.  I  shook  him  heartily  by  the  hand — is  to  come  to 
church. 


LAST   YEARS  AT  DALKEITH.  211 

"  5.  An  idiot  pauper — a  half-idiot  sister—  a  dan L;Ltcr-in-law  of  latter, 
who  is  very  wicked,  says  '  she  will  take  her  chance'  for  eternity,  was  im- 
pressed by  all  I  said  yesterday,  but  came  here  to-day  tipsy,  but  knowing, 
however,  what  she  was  saying. 

"  6.  A  mother  very  anxious — had  a  long  talk  with  her,  she  received  good 
and  comfort.  And  so  on,  and  so  on.  Oh,  for  unselfish,  Christian  hearts 
to  live  and  die  for  the  world !  How  far,  far  are  we  from  Him  who  left  the 
heavens  and  became  poor  and  lived  among  such — to  lift  us  up  !  Alas  !  alas  ! 
how  unlike  the  world  is  to  Him  !  It  has.  no  tears — no  labours,  no  care  for 
lost  man.  We  are  selfish  and  shut-up.  Christians  hardly  know  their 
Master's  work  in  the  world  I" 


CHAPTER    XIIL 

1851— 185G. 

NORMAN  MACLEOD  was  inducted  minister  of  the  Barony  parish,' 
Glasgow,  in  July,  1851 ;  and  on  the  11th  of  August  in  the  same 
year  was  married  to  Catharine  Ann  Mackintosh,  daughter  of  the  late 
William  Mackintosh,  Esq.,  of  Geddes,  and  sister  of  his  dearest  friend, 
John  Mackintosh. 

He  first  lived  in  Woodlands  Terrace,  then  at  the  western  extremity 
of  the  city.  The  house  stood  high,  and  commanded  a  wide  prospect 
from  its  upper  windows.  The  valley  of  the  Clyde  lay  in  front,  and 
over  the  intervening  roofs  and  chimney-stacks  his  eye  rested  with  de- 
light on  the  taper  masts  of  ships  crowded  along  the  quays.  Farther 
away,  and  beyond  the  smoke  of  the  city,  rose  the  range  of  the  Cathkin 
Hills,  and  Hurlet  Neb,  and  the  "  Braes  of  Gleniffer,"  their  slopes 
flecked  by  sun  and  shadow.  From  the  back  windows  there  was  a 
glorious  view  of  the  familiar  steeps  of  Campsie  Fell.  The  glow  of  sun- 
rise or  of  sunset  on  these  steeps  was  such  a  delight  to  him  that  often, 
when  he  had  guests,  he  made  them  follow  him  up-stairs,  to  share  his 
own  enjoyment  of  the  scene. 

The  stir  and  bustle  ot  the  commercial  capital  of  Scotland  were 
thoroughly  congenial  to  him.  He  loved  Glasgow,  and  rejoiced  in  the 
practical  sense,  the  enterprise,  and  generosity  which  characterised  its 
kindly  citizens.  The  very  noise  of  its  busy  streets  was  pleasant  to 
his  ears.  His  friends  remember  how  he  used  to  describe  himself  sit- 
ting in  his  study,  in  the  quiet  of  the  winter  morning,  and  knowing 
that  six  o'clock  had  struck  by  hearing,  far  down  below  him  in  the 
valley  of  the  Clyde,  the  thud  of  a  great  steam-hammer,  to  which  a 
thousand  hammers,  ringing  on  a  thousand  anvils,  at  once  replied,  tell- 
ing that  the  city  had  awakened  to  another  day  of  labour. 

It  was  his  habit  to  rise  very  early,  and,  after  giving  the  first  hours 
to  devotim,  he  wrote  or  studied  till  breakfast  time.  The  forenoon  was 
chiefly  employed  receiving  persons  calling  on  business  of  every  con- 
ceivable description,  and  the  afternoon  was  occupied  with  parochial 
visitation,  and  other  public  duties.  When  it  was  possible,  he  reserved, 
an  hour  during  the  evening  for  the  enjoyment  of  music  or  for  reading 
aloud.  Every  Saturday  he  took  the  only  walk  for  the  week  which  had 
no  object  but  enjoyment.     The  first  part  of  this  walk  usually  brought 


1G51— 1856.  213 

him  to  John  Macleod  Campbell's  house,  which  was  two  miles  out  of 
town,  and,  with  him  as  his  companion,  it  was  continued  into  the 
country.  But  in  whatever  direction  he  went,  the  day  seldom  ended 
without  his  visiting  the  Broomielaw,  where,  for  a  while,  he  would 
wander  with  delight  among  the  ships  and  sailors,  criticising  hulls  and 
rigging,  and  looking  with  boyish  wdhder  at  the  strange  cargoes  that 
were  being  discharged  from  the  foreign  traders. 

Few  contrasts  can  be  greater  than  that  presented  to  the  stranger, 
who,  after  gazing  at  the  hoary  magnificence  of  Glasgow  Cathedral — 
the  very  embodiment  of  the  spirit  of  reverence  and  worship — looks 
across  the  street  at  the  plain  square  pile  of  the  Barony  Church.  Yet, 
any  one  who  knows  the  work  with  the  recollection  of  which  that  un- 
pretending edifice  is  associated,  will  be  disposed  to  pardon  its  ugliness 
in  consideration  of  a  certain  sacred  interest  clinging  to  its  walls. 
When  he  was  inducted  to  the  Barony,  Norman  Macleod  at  once  recog- 
nized his  position  as  minister,  not  only  of  the  congregation  which 
worshipped  there,  but  of  the  enormous  parish  (embracing  at  that  time 
87,000  souls,  and  rapidly  increasing)  of  which  this  was  the  Parish 
Church.  There  were  of  course  many  other  churches  in  the  parish  ;  it 
contained  the  usual  proportion  of  dissenting  congregations,  in  addition 
to  some  chapels  connected  with  the  Church  of  Scotland.  These, 
nevertheless,  were  not  only  inadequate  to  the  requirements  of  the 
population,  but  were  unequally  distributed,  so  that  many  densely  in- 
habited districts  were  left  unprovided  with  either  Church  or  School. 
There  were  also,  at  a  depth  reached  by  no  agency  then  existing,  those 
"  lapsed  classes  "  which  form  in  all  large  cities  the  mighty  problem  of 
Christian  philanthropy. 

Every  Sunday  he  preached  to  crowds  that  filled  every  seat  and  pas- 
sage ;  yet  by  far  the  greater  proportion  of  those  actually  connected 
with  his  church  were  not  rich.  They  gave  him,  however,  from  the 
first,  such  hearty  support  in  the  furtherance  of  all  his  measures  for 
the  good  of  the  parish  at  large,  that,  in  spite  of  its  comparative  poverty, 
few,  if  any,  of  the  congregations  in  the  Church  accomplished  so  much. 

The  Barony  afforded  a  noble  field  for  the  development  of  his  convic- 
tions as  to  the  duties  of  the  Christian  congregation  in  reference  to  the 
manifold  wants  of  society.  When  he  entered  on  his  new  charge  his 
mind  was  full  of  the  subject,  and  he  gave  emphatic  utterance,  both  in 
speeches  and  in  magazine  articles,  to  the  views  he  was  about  to  carry 
into  practical  effect : — 

"  A  Christian  congregation  is  a  body  of  Christians  who  are  associated  not 
merely  to  receive  instruction  from  a  minister,  or  to  unite  in  public  worship, 
but  also  '  to  consider  one  another,  and  to  provoke  to  love  and  good  works,' 
and  as  a  society  to  do  '  good  unto  all  as  they  have  opportunity.' 

".  .  .  It  is  a  body.  Its  member  are  parts  of  an  organized  whole.  The 
Lord's  supper  is  the  grand  symbol  of  this  unity.  Other  ends  are  unques- 
tionably intended  to  be  accomplished  by  this  ordinance,  but  it  is  certainly 
designed  to  express  this  idea  of  unity.   .  .   . 


214  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD 

"  We  are  profoundly  convinced  that, — apart  from,  or  in  addition  to,  the 
immense  power  of  the  Christian  life  operating  in  and  through  individuals, 
and  innumerable  separate  and  isolated  channels, — the  society  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church  acting  through  its  distinct  organizations  or  congregations,  likfi 
an  army  acting  through  its  different  regiments,  is  the  grand  social  system 
which  Christ  has  ordained,  not  only  for  the  conversion  of  sinners  and  the 
edification  of  saints,  but  also  for  advancing  all  that  pertains  to  the  well- 
being  of  humanity.  We  hold  that  the  Christian  congregation,  if  con 
structed  and  worked  according  to  the  intention  of  its  designer,  contains^  in 
itself  individually,  or  in  conjunction  with  other  congregations,  material, 
moral,  intellectual,  active,  and  social  forces  which,  when  wisely  applied  to 
God's  work  on  earth,  are  the  best  and  most  efficient  means  for  doing  it. 

"...  But  is  this  possible  in  a  condition  of  society  constituted  as  ours 
now  is  1  Is  the  conception  not  a  fond  imagination,  or,  if  attempted  to  be 
carried  out,  would  it  not  lead  to  such  extravagances  and  fanatical  disorders, 
as  from  time  to  time  have  characterised  minor  sects  which,  in  seeking  to  be 
perfect  Churches,  have  sunk  down  to  be  perfect  nuisances  1  It  may  be  said, 
only  look  at  the  elements  you  have  to  work  upon  !  Look  at  that  farmer, 
or  this  shopkeeper.  Study  that  servant,  or  this  master.  Enter  the  houses 
of  those  parishioners,  from  the  labourer  to  the  laird.  Is  there  the  intelligence, 
the  principle,  the  common  sense— any  one  element  which  would  combine 
those  members  into  a  body  for  any  high  or  holy  end?  They  love  one 
another  !  They  help  to  convert  the  world  !  Would  it  were  so — but  it  is 
impracticable  !" 

To  these  difficulties  lie  replied  by  indicating  what,  at  all  events, 
must  be  recognised  as  the  will  of  Christ,  in  reference  to  Christian  duty ; 
and  then  showed  how  much  latent  power  there  is  in  every  congregation 
which  only  requires  sufficient  occasion  for  its  display  : — 

tl  Grace  Darling,  had  she  been  known  only  as  a  sitter  or  a  pewholder  in  a 
congregation,  might  have  been  deemed  unfit  for  any  work  requiring  courage 
or  self-sacrifice.  But  these  noble  qualities  were  all  the  while  there.  In  like 
manner  we  have  seen  among  our  working  classes,  a  man  excited  by  some 
religious  enthusiast  or  fanatical  Mormonite,  who  all  at  once  seemed  inspired 
by  new  powers,  braved  the  sneers  of  companions,  consented  to  be  clipped  in 
the  next  river,  turned  his  small  stock  of  knowledge  into  immediate  use, 
exhorted,  warned,  proselytised  among  his  neighbours — giving,  in  short, 
token  of  a  force  lying  hid  in  one  who  once  seemed  unfit  for  anything  but  to 
work  on  week-days  and  to  sleep  on  Sabbath  clays.  Does  not  the  Hindu 
Fakir,  who  swings  from  a  hook  fixed  in  the  muscles  of  his  back,  and  every 
popish  devotee  who  braves  the  opinion  of  society  by  going  with  bare  feet 
and  in  a  comical  dress,  demonstrate  what  a  man  can  and  will  do  if  you  can 
only  touch  the  mainspring  of  his  being  1  It  is  thus  that  there  are  in  many 
congregations  men  and  women  who  have  in  them  great  powers  of  some 
kind,  which  have  been  given  them  by  God,  and  which,  though  lying  dormant, 
are  capable  of  being  brought  out  by  fitting  causes.  Nay,  every  man  is  en- 
riched with  some  talent  or  gift,  if  we  could  only  discover  it,  which,  if 
educated  and  properly  directed,  is  capable  of  enriching  others." 

The  Church  demanded  the  discovery  of  these  gifts,  the  personal  in- 


1851—1856.  215 

flncnce  of  living  Christians  being  the  only  agency  sufficient  to  meet 
the  evils  of  society. 

"  We  want  living  men  !  Not  their  books  or  their  money  only,  hut  them- 
selves. The  poor  and  needy  ones  who,  in  this  great  turmoil  of  life,  have 
found  no  helper  among  their  fellows — the  wicked  and  outcast,  whose  hand 
is  against  every  man's,  because  they  have  found,  by  dire  experience  of  the 
world's  intense  selfishness,  that  every  man's  hand  is  against  them — the 
prodigal  and  broken-hearted  children  of  the  human  family,  who  have  the 
bitterest  thoughts  of  God  and  man,  if  they  have  any  thoughts  at  all  beyond 
their  busy  contrivances  how  to  live  and  indulge  their  craving  passions — all 
these  by  the  mesmerism  of  the  heart,  and  by  the  light  of  that  great  witness, 
conscience,  which  God  in  mercy  leaves  as  a  light  from  heaven  in  the  most 
abject  dwelling  of  earth,  can  to  some  extent  read  the  living  epistle  of  a 
renewed  soul,  written  in  the  divine  characters  of  the  Holy  Spirit !  They 
can  see  and  feel,  as  they  never  did  anything  else  in  this  world,  the  love 
which  calmly  shines  in  that  eye,  telling  of  inward  light,  and  peace  possessed, 
and  of  a  place  of  rest  found  and  enjoyed  by  the  weary  heart!  They  can 
understand  and  appreciate  the  utter  unselfishness — to  them  a  thing  hitherto 
hardly  dreamt  of — which  prompted  this  visit  from  a  home  of  comfort  and 
lefinement  to  an  unknown  abode  of  squalor  or  disease,  and  which  expresses 
itself  in  those  kind  words  and  tender  greetings  that  accompany  their  minis- 
trations." . 

But  even  where  there  are  the  desire  and  ability  to  engage  in  such  a 
work,  a  wise  organization  is  required  to  make  them  effective. 

"...  There  is  not  found  in  general  that  wise  and  authoritative  cono;retfa- 
tional  or  church  direction  and  government,  which  could  at  least  suggest,  if 
not  assign,  fitting  work  to  each  member,  and  a  fitting  member  for  each 
work.  Hence  little  comparatively  is  accomplished.  The  most  willing 
church  member  gazes  over  a  great  city,  and  asks  in  despair,  'What  am  / 
to  do  here1?'  And  what  would  the  bravest  soldiers  accomplish  in  the  day  of 
battle,  if  they  asked  the  same  question  in  vain  1  What  would  a  thousand 
of  our  best  workmen  do  in  a  large  factory,  if  they  entered  it  with  willing 
bands,  yet  having  no  place  or  work  assigned  to  them  1* 

" .  .  ,  The  common  idea  at  present  is  that  the  whole  function  of  the 
Church  is  to  teach  and  preach  the  gospel;  while  it  is  left  to  other  organiza- 
tions, infidel  ones  they  may  be,  to  meet  all  the  other  varied  wants  of  our 
suffering  people.  And  what  is  this  but  virtually  to  say  to  them,  the  Church 
of  Christ  has  nothing  to  do  as  a  society  with  your  bodies,  only  with  your 
souls,  and  that,  too,  but  in  the  way  of  teaching?  Let  infidels,  then,  give 
you  better  hoiises  or  better  clothing,  and  seek  to  gratify  your  tastes  and 
improve  your  social  state; — with  all  this,  and  a  thousand  other  things  need- 
ful for  you  as  men,  we  have  nothing  to  do.  What  is  this,  too,  but  to  give 
these  men  the  impression  that  Christ  gives  them  truth  merely  on  Sabbath 
through  ministers,  but  that  He  has  nothing  to  do  with  what  is  given  them 
every  day  of  the  week  through  other  channels  ]  Whereas  the  Christian 
congregation  or  society  ought  not  to  consider  as  foreign  to  itself  any  one 

*  Extracted  from  articles  on  "  What  is  a  Christian  Congregation  ?"'  in  Edinburjh 
Christian  Marja:inz  for  18j'2. 


216  LIFE  OF  N  OHM  AN  MACLEOD. 

thing  which  its  loving  Head  Jesus  Christ  gives  to  bless  and  dignify  man, 
and  desires  man  to  use  and  enjoy.  We  must  not  separate  ourselves  from 
any  important  interest  of  our  brethren  of  mankind,  calling  the  one  class  of 
blessings  spiritual,  and  accepting  these  as  the  special  trust  of  the  Christian 
Church,  and  calling  another  class  temporal,  and  recognizing  them  as  a  trust 
for  society  given  to  the  unbelievers.  In  so  doing  we  give  Satan  the  advant- 
age over  us.  Let  congregations  take  cognizance  of  the  whole  man  and  his 
various  earthly  relationships,  let  them  seek  to  enrich  him  with  all  Christ 
gave  him,  let  them  endeavour  to  meet  all  his  wants  as  an  active,  social, 
intellectual,  sentient,  as  well  as  spiritual  being,  so  that  man  shall  know 
through  the  ministrations  of  the  body,  the  Church,  how  its  living  Head  gives 
them  all  things  richly  to  enjoy  !  Every  year  seems  to  me  to  demand  this 
more  and  more  from  the  Christian  Church.  I  see  no  way  of  meeting  Social- 
ism but  this.  I  see  no  efficient  way  of  meeting  Popery  but  this.  Organi- 
zation is  one  stronghold  of  Pomanisni,  and  self-sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  the 
Church  is  another.  Protestantism  cannot  meet  either  by  dogma  merely,  it 
must  meet  both  by  organization  and  government  with  Christian  liberty,  and 
above  all  by  life."  * 

These  views  form  the  key  to  the  general  plan  of  his  work  in  the 
Barony. 

After  having  personally  visited  the  different  families  under  his 
immediate  charge,  he  commenced  to  organize  his  agencies,  with  the 
determination  to  make  the  congregation  the  centre  from  which  he  was 
to  work  the  parish.  He  first  formed  a  large  kirk-session  of  elders  and 
deacons,-}-  and  at  once  gave  the  Court,  over  which  he  presided  officially, 
direct  control  over  all  the  agencies  he  intended  to  employ.  However 
numerous  might  be  the  various  "workers,"  male  and  female,  who  took 
an  active  part  in  missionary  labour,  all  of  them  were  under  the  direc- 
tion and  superintendence  of  the  kirk-session.  Even  the  names  of  those 
whose  children  were  to  be  baptised,  were  regularly  submitted  to  this 
body.  In  this  manner  he  not  only  called  forth  the  talents  and  energy 
of  individuals,  but  so  organized  their  work,  under  the  constitutional 
government  of  the  Church,  that  it  went  on  smoothly  and  efficiently, 
even  when  he  was  himself  obliged  to  be  absent  for  a  considerable 
period.  He  believed  that  the  Presbyterian  system,  if  duly  adminis- 
tered, was  admirably  fitted  for  maintaining  the  union  of  individual 
energy  with  efficiency  of  government,  and  his  experience  amply  con- 
firmed his  convictions. 

*  Speech  delivered  at  public  meeting  for  Church  Endowment  in  the  City  Hall, 
Glasgow,  January,  1852. 

i  In  the  Presby  erian  Church  the  congregation  is  governed  by  a  court  consisting  of 
the  clergyman  and  a  certain  number  of  the  laity,  who  are  ordained  as  'elders.'  .Nor- 
man Macleod  was  one  of  the  first  in  the  Church  of  Scotland  to  revive  the  office  of 
deacon,  whose  duties  chiefly  refer  to  charitable,  financial,  and  other  business  arrange- 
ments. Elders  and  deacons  act  together  in  all  matters  except  those  purely  spiritual, 
worship  and  discipline.  With  these  the  elders  and  minister  are  alone  legally  com- 
petent to  deal.  The  Kirk-Sessions  of  the  Established  Church  are  recognized  'Courts,' 
with  a  legal  jurisdiction,  and  are  amenable  only  to  the  Presbytery,  Synod,  and  General 
Assembly. 


1851—1856.  217 

One  leading  feature  in  his  plan  of  operation  was  the  establishment 
of  district  meetings  with  his  people.  For  this  end,  the  congregation 
was  divided  into  twelve  districts,  according  to  their  place  of  residence, 
to  each  of  which  one  or  more  elders,  with  a  proportionate  number  oi 
deacons,  were  appointed,  lie  held  a  meeting  once  a  year  in  each  ol 
these  districts,  which  all  the  families  connected  with  his  congregation, 
residing  within  it,  were  expected  to  attend.  The  minister,  accompanied 
by  the  elders  and  deacons  of  the  district  had  thus  an  opportunity  of 
meeting  old  and  young  in  an  informal  and  friendly  manner.  Kindly 
greetings  were  exchanged,  explanations  made  as  to  congregational 
work,  and  pastoral  advice  given  on  practical  matters.  The  communi- 
cants in  this  way  not  only  enjoyed  personal  intercourse  with  the  office- 
bearers of  the  church,  but  became  better  acquainted  with  one  another, 
and  felt  that  the  bonds  of  Christian  fellowship  were  proportionately 
strengthened.  This  method  of  working  became  peculiarly  useful  when 
his  increasing  public  duties  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  visit  separate 
households  regularly. 

The  work  of  the  congregation,  as  it  was  superintended  by  the  kirk- 
session,  was — (1)  parochial ;  and  (2)  non -parochial. 

1.  The  parochial  objects  included  not  only  missionary  operations 
dealing  directly  with  the  spiritual  interests  of  the  people,  but  also 
efforts  for  their  educational  and  social  improvement. 

(i.)  The  educational  requirements  of  his  large  parish  gave  him  much 
labour  and  anxiety.  For,  although  there  were  several  day-schools 
supported  by  his  kirk-session,  and  managed  by  a  committee  of  their 
number,  who  visited  them  monthly  and  reported  on  their  condition, 
yet  there  were  districts  where  school  accommodation  had  to  be  provid- 
ed, and  it  fell  to  him  to  "beg"  from  his  wealthier  fellow  citizens  the 
greater  portion  of  the  funds  required  for  this  purpose.  The  toil  which 
this  imposed  was  great,  and  the  task  irksome.  Nevertheless,  during 
the  first  ten  years  of  his  incumbency,  school  accommodation  was  in 
this  manner  provided  for  two  thousand  scholars.  He  attempted,  be- 
sides, on  fixed  days  of  each  month,  to  visit  the  day  and  evening  schools, 
and  examine,  encourage,  and  advise  the  pupils. 

As  he  came  more  in  contact  with  the  working  classes,  he  saw  the 
need  of  still  another  educational  agency.  Evening  classes  were 
opened  for  adults,  at  which  the  interesting  spectacle  was  presented  oi 
grown-up  men  and  women  (many  of  them  married)  patiently  toiling 
at  different  standards,  from  the  alphabet  upwards.  Schools  of  a  sim- 
ilar nature  had  been  attempted  before,  but  had  failed  from  insufficient 
care  being  taken  in  the  appointment  oi  teachers.  He  attributed  the 
success  of  his  schools  to  the  fact  that  they  were  under  certificated 
Government  teachers.  At  one  of  these  schools,  there  were  sometimes 
two  hundred  and  twenty  grown-up  men  and  women. 

From  seven  to  twelve  Sabbath-schools,  with  sometimes  as  many  as 
fourteen  hundred  scholars,  were  organized  into  a  single  society  under 
the  care  of  the  session.     With  these  schools  the  minister  kept  himself 


218  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

always  well  acquainted,  and  as  frequently  as  possible  gave  expository 
lectures  to  the  teachers,  on  the  lessons.  He  also  taught  on  Sunday, 
for  several  winters,  a  class  numbering  about  one  hundred,  consisting 
of  the  children  of  members  of  his  congregation. 

(ii.)  For  the  social  improvement  of  the  parish  he  founded  the  first 
Congregational  Tenny  Savings  Bank  in  Glasgow,  and  established  in 
one  of  the  busiest  centres  of  labour  a  Refreshment-room,  where  work- 
ing-men could  get  cheap  and  well-cooked  food,  and  enjoy  a  comfortable 
reading-room  at  their  meal-hours,  instead  of  being  obliged  to  have  re- 
course to  the  public-house.  The  success  which  attended  these  en- 
deavours led  to  the  establishment  of  similar  institutions  on  a  larger 
scale  throughout  the  city.  In  the  later  years  of  his  ministry,  he  also 
organized  various  methods  of  affording  amusement  and  social  recrea- 
tion to  the  people  connected  with  his  missions. 

(iii.)  Tiie  direct  missionary  and  Church  extension  work  of  the  parish 
was  continually  enlarging,  and  at  the  same  time  changing  ground. 
When  he  first  came  to  the  parish  four  chapels  were  without  ministers 
or  congregations.  These  chapels  had  been  retained  by  the  Free  Church 
for  several  years,  and  it  now  fell  to  him  and  to  his  session  to  assist  in 
procuring  ministers  for  them,  and  to  foster  the  congregations  that  were 
being  formed.  In  other  places,  where  a  new  population  was  rising, 
churches  had  to  be  built.  In  this  way,  as  a  sequel  to  the  work  of  re- 
organizing chapels,  six  new  churches  were  erected  in  his  parish  during 
his  ministry,  and  in  respect  to  most  of  these  he  had  to  bear  a  large 
share  of  the  burden  of  collecting  funds.  "While  this  work  of  church 
extension  was  going  forward,  his  mission  staff  for  overtaking  destitute 
localities  increased  in  ten  years  from  one  lay  missionary,  employed  in 
1852,  to  five  missionaries  (lay  and  clerical),  with  three  Bible-women 
and  a'  colporteur,  all  of  whom  were  superintended  by  him  and  his 
session. 

There  were  other  parochial  agencies,  such  as  the  Young  Men's  As- 
sociation, Clothing  Society,  &o,  which  need  not  be  particularly  noticed. 

2.  His  extra-parochial  plans  had  reference  chiefly  to  the  raising  of 
money  for  the  missionary  work  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  Here  also 
organization,  and  the  intelligent  interest  in  mission  work  at  home  and 
abroad,  created  by  his  continually  affording  information  to  his  people 
on  that  subject,  bore  remarkable  fruit.  For  although,  as  has  been 
stated,  his  congregation  was  not  rich,  yet  there  was  scarcely  another 
in  the  Church  which  contributed  as  much  for  missions  as  the  Barony 
did,  and  he  was  accustomed  to  refer  with  gratification  to  the  fact  that 
the  amount,  large  as  it  was,  was  made  up  chiefly  of  very  small  sums. 

In  order  to  maintain  congregational  life,  and  to  promote  a  sense  of 
brotherly  unity,  the  kirk-session  issued  at  short  intervals  Reports  of 
their  proceedings,  and  a  social  festival  of  the  congregation  was  occa- 
sionally held,  at  which  these  reports  were  read,  and  kindly  and  instruc- 
tive addresses  delivered. 

In  this  summer  he  carried  out  his  ideas  of  the  Christian  congrega- 


1851— 1806.  219 

lion  as  a  society  united  for  work.  And  it  was  only  by  such  careful 
organization,  and  by  the  development  of  the  latent  force  of  the  mem- 
bership of  the  Church,  that  he  could  have  overtaken  the  labour  which 
was  crowded  into  the  twenty  years  of  his  incumbency  in  the  Barony. 

The  work  here  described,  together  with  the  study  requisite  for  the 
pulpit — he  had  always  two,  frequently  three  services  to  conduct  ovcry 
Sunday — might  well  have  taxed  the  energies  of  any  man.  Yet,  during 
the  years  comprised  in  this  chapter,  he  was  able,  in  addition,  to  edit 
The  Christian  Magazine,  and  to  contribute  many  articles  to  its  pages; 
to  write,  under  the  title  of  "The  Early  Student,"  a  Memoir  of  his 
brother-in-law,  John  Mackintosh;  to  publish  the  "Home  School"  and 
"  Deborah,"  and  to  take  active  part  in  the  public  and  missionary  busi- 
ness of  the  Church.  It  was  no  wonder  that  the  pressure  of  such  labour 
tried  his  strength  to  the  utmost,  or  that  in  spite  of  his  marvellous 
physique,  he  continually  suffered  from  ailments  which  the  world,  seeing 
only  his  unfailing  geniality,  could  not  have  suspected.  His  irrepress- 
ible humour  and  self-forgetfulness  concealed  from  the  eyes  of  strangers 
the  burthen  he  was  often  bearing,  alike  of  mental  anxiety  and  of  bodily 
pain. 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"June  3,  1852.— What  a  year  of  mercies  and  of  loving  providences  has 
this  last  one  of  my  life  been  !  I  have  come  to  a  new  parish — having  the 
best  living  in  Scotland  (for  which  I  feel  deeply  grateful !);  a  glorious  field 
of  labour.     I  have  married,  and  have  had  a  dear  child  born  to  me. 

"I  have  as  yet  done  little — I  have  done  nothing  that  the  great  world 
can  ever  hear  of,  or  if  they  did,  care  for.  As  far  as  fame  is  concerned,  I  am 
but  one  of  many  millions  equally  eminent  on  earth,  and  equally  unknown. 
But  I  am  thinking  of  what  I  have  done  God-ward — of  what  He  knows — of 
what  will  last  in  eternity ;  and  when  I  consider  what  I  might  have  done, 
(therefore  ought  to  have  done,  and  therefore  am  very  guilty  in  not  having 
done),  had  I  been  daily  earnest  in  prayer ;  had  I  been  daily  diligent  and 
laborious  in  mastering  those  details  in  the  Christian  character  which  can 
alone  insure  success  in  the  end;  had  1  been  watchful  of  my  heart,  careful 
in  forming  habits,  conscientious  in  using  my  influence,  saving  of  my  time 
for  reading,  and  improving  my  mind,  and  becoming  a  better  scholar  and  a 
more  learned  man ;  had  1  Laboured  to  make  every  sermon  the  best  possible 
— what  could  I  have  done  by  the  blessing  of  God  on  all  1  But  I  have  been 
frittering  my  time.  There  has  been  a  want  of  concentrated  effort ;  a  thou- 
sand little  things  connected  with  everything  have  scattered  my  strength.  I 
have  been  deplorably  slothful,  and  above  all  procrastinating.  This  has  been 
a  frightful  incubus  upon  my  life — not  doing  in  the  hour  the  work  which 
should  have  been  done.  There  is  no  habit  the  want  of  which  I  have  felt 
more  than  that  of  proposing  a  worthy  end,  whether  of  study  or  some  plan 
of  Christian  benevolence,  and  working  wisely  and  doggedly  up  to  it  for 
years.  I  am  too  impatient  and  eager  to  grasp  the  end  which  I  vividly  re- 
alise in  my  mind,  but  cannot  bear  to  attain  by  a  long,  fagging  attention  to 
the  dry,  prosaic  details  which,  by  the  wise  decree  of  God,  are  the  essential 
steps  of  ascent  to  the  summit.  But  by  the  grace  of  God  I  shall  fight  against 
this  evil,  and  put  it  down  in  time  to  come." 


220  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

From  his  Journal  :— 

"Sunday,  Sept.  5,  1852. — WLat  I  propose  for  this  winter  is  the  following 
programme  : — 

"  1.  ltise  as  near  six  as  possible.  After  devotion,  give  the  mornings  of 
Monday,  Tuesday,  and  Wednesday,  to  John's  Memoir  ;  of  Thursday,  to  the 
Magazine  ;  and  Friday,  Saturday,  wholly  to  sermons. 

"  2.  Keep  the  house  till  1  p.m.  :  at  9  a.m.  prayers;  9|,  breakfast;  10  to 
1 1,  letters  ;  1 1  to  1,  when  not  interrupted,  the  business  of  the  morning  con- 
tinued, or  public  business,  as  may  be  necessary  ;  from  2  till  5,  on  Monday, 
Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday,  visiting  sick,  parish  visitation,  and  calls; 
4,  Friday  and  Saturday,  to  be  given  entirely  to  writing  sermons  ;  5,  attend 
the  evening  adult  class ;  6,  as  much  as  possible  devote  the  time  after  dinner 
to  my  family  and  reading. 

"  May  God  in  mercy  help  me  !     I  will  begin  to  morrow. 

"  Sept.  6. — Rose  at  6.  This  day  I  begin  the  Memoir  of  my  beloved  John. 
Oh  my  God  and  his,  guide  my  pen  !  In  mercy  keep  me  from  writing  any- 
thing false  in  fact  or  sentiment.  May  strict  Truth  pervade  every  sentence  ! 
May  I  be  enabled  to  show  in  him  the  education  of  the  grace  of  God,  so  that 
other  scholars  in  thy  school  may  be  quickened  and  encouraged  to  be  followers 
of  him  as  he  was  of  Christ !  I  feel  utterly  unworthy  to  undertake  this 
Memoir,  or  of  any  of  even  the  least  of  Thy  saints.  But  Thou  who  hast  given 
me  this  work  in  Thy  providence,  and  called  me  to  preach  the  unsearchable 
riches  of  Christ,  wilt  enable  me,  I  doubt  not,  to  show  the  riches  of  Christ  as 
displayed  in  a  poor  sinner,  and  so  to  write  that  Thy  Church  on  earth  will 
approve,  because  it  is  such  as  is  approved  of  by  Jesus.     Hear  me,  Lord  ! 

"  Oct.  8th,  6  a.m. — Subjects  for  prayer — 

"  A  deeper  spiritual  insight  into  the  Divine  character, — to  be  able  to  say, 
with  increasing  intelligence,  '  Thine  eye  seeth  me.' 

"To  be  devoted  and  be  ready  to  give  up  all  at  a  moment's  notice  to 
Jesus  j  yea,  in  heart  to  resign  all. 

"  I  acknowledge  that  it  is  morally  impossible  for  me  without  an  omni- 
potent Saviour  to  do  the::e  things  in  any  degree.  Lord,  I  believe  in  Thee  ! 
I  desire  to  have  Christ's  love  to  His  people  and  the  world.  Alas !  alas  ! 
Avhat  a  microscopic  shadow  of  it  have  I  ! 

"  Oh  my  God,  make  me  indeed  a  father  to  my  people  !  Help  me  to  crucify 
this  selfish,  slothful,  self-indulgent  heart !  Help  me  constantly  to  forget 
nelf,  and  to  seek,  even  to  death,  to  do  Thy  will ;  for  then  only  shall  I  find 
my  truer  self  !     Oh  my  God,  pity  me  ! 

"  Oct.  llth,  4 1  a.m. — Have  been  reading  a  little  of  '  Brainerd.'  Next  to 
the  Bible,  Christian  biography  is  the  most  profitable.  In  as  far  as  it  is  true, 
it  is  a  revelation  of  the  living  God,  through  His  living  Church.  The  ex- 
perience of  the  Church  is  one  of  the  few  accumulating  privileges  of  the  lamer 
days.  It  is  when  I  read  some  of  the  aspirations  of  Brainerd,  that  I  feel  how 
far  away  I  am  from  that  pure  and  lofty  spirituality  of  mind,  which  is  the 
very  atmosphere  of  Heaven.  '  Though  my  body  was  wearied  with  preaching 
and  much  private  conversation,  yet  I  wanted  to  sit  up  all  night  and  do  some- 
thing for  God.'  It  is  this  real  love  to  God, — this  forgetfulness  of  self,  this 
disregard  to  flesh-indulgence  when  compared  with  spirit-indulgence — it  is 
this  I  so  much  need.  Yet  blessed  be  God,  there  is  nothing  we  should  be 
but  we  shall  be  by  His  grace.     '  But,  Lord,  how  long?'     When?     Ah!  let 


1851—1856.  221 

me  cover  my  face  with  shame  (If1*-  mo  be  ashamed  because  I  am  not  ashamed 
more  !),  that  I  have  not  laboured,  agonised  thirty  years  ago.  What  might 
I  have  been  now!  An  humble,  earnest-minded  servant,  devoted  to  Jesus, 
converting  thousands !  May  God  Almighty  enable  me  to  redeem  the  short 
time,  and  to  be  His  wholly  and  for  ever  ! 

"Sunday  morning,  Oct.  \2th,  six  o'clock. — A  lovely,  peaceful  morning,  the 
atmosphere  transparent,  the  landscape  clear  and  pure,  with  its  white  houses, 
and  fields  and  trees. 

"Glorious  day!  the  only  day  on  earth  the  least  like  heaven.  It  is  the 
day  of  peace  which  follows  the  clay  of  battle  and  victory.  'And  all  this 
mighty  heart  is  lying  still,'  the  forge  silent,  the  cotton-mill  asleep,  the  steam- 
ers moored,  the  carts  and  waggons  gone  to  the  warehouse,  the  shops  closed, 
man  and  beast  enjoying  rest,  and  all  men  invited  to  seek  rest  in  God!  How 
solemn  the  thought  of  the  millions  who  will  this  day  think  of  God,  and 
pray  to  God,  and  gaze  upon  eternal  things ;  on  sea  and  land,  in  church  and 
chapel,  on  sick  bed  and  in  crowded  congregations !  How  many  thousands 
in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  will  do  this !  Clergy  praying  and  preaching 
to  millions.  This  never  was  the  device  of  either  man  or  devil.  If  it  was 
the  '  device  of  the  Church,'  she  is  indeed  of  God. 

"  May  the  Lord  anoint  me  this  day  with  His  Spirit! 

"  Saturday,  18lh. — Some  things  I  see  I  must  correct.  (1)1  must  be  care- 
ful of  pence,  as  I  find  I  am  hideously  extravagant  with  pounds.  Lord  help 
me  in  this  thing!  He  who  gathered  up  fragments,  and  who  in  nature  lets 
nothing  be  lost,  but  turns  all  to  some  account,  will  help  me.  (2)  To  have 
a  fixed  time  for  devotion  at  night.  '  Sin  shall  not  have  dominion  over  you, 
for  ye  are  not  under  law,  but  under  grace.' 

"  The  God  of  peace  sanctify  you  wholly,  and  may  your  whole  spirit,  and 
soul,  and  body,  be  preserved  blameless  unto  the  coming  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.     'Faithful  is  He  who  calleth  you,  who  also  will  do  this!' 

"Sunday,  Oct.  \§th,  7  a.m. — (First  day  that  I  am  late.)  The  closer  we 
live  with  God,  and  the  more  our  spiritual  life  in  Him  is  manifested  to  the 
world  in  its  results  only,  the  better,  I  think,  for  ourselves.  When  the  inner 
life  is  revealed  in  words,  it  is  apt  to  end  in  words,  and  to  become  cant. 
Spiritual  pride  is  thereby  nourished,  and  this  is  great  destruction.  Oh  my 
God,  enable  me  to  thwart  and  utterly  mortify  my  cursed  vanity  and  pride, 
by  giving  me  strength  to  hide  all  my  good  in  this  sense,  hot  to  speak  to  my 
nearest  of  good  deeds  done,  but  to  do  them  cheerfully  before  Thee  only,  and 
to  have  the  delight  in  making  others  happier  and  better,  pleasing  Thee,  my 
Father,  for  I  know  Thou  art  so  loving  and  good  as  to  be  pleased  with  Thy 
children  who  by  Thy  grace  are  in  any  degree  imbued  with  Thy  goodness ! 

"  The  less  self-reflective  good  is,  and  the  more  outward  and  unconscious  it 
is,  the  better. 

"  Sat.,  6  a.m. — People  talk  of  early  morning  in  the  country  with  bleat- 
ing sheep,  singing  larks,  and  purling  brooks.  I  prefer  that  roar  which 
greets  my  ear  when  a  thousand  hammers,  thundering  on  boilers  of  steam 
vessels  which  are  to  bridge  the  Atlantic  or  Pacific,  usher  in  a  new  day — the 
type  of  a  new  era.  I  feel  men  are  awake  with  me,  doing  their  work,  and 
that  the  world  is  rushing  on  to  fulfil  its  mighty  destinies,  and  that  I  must 
do  my  work,  and  fulfil  my  grand  and  glorious  end. 

"  Oh!  to  see  the  Church  and  the  world  with  Christ's  eyes  and  heart ! 


222  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  I  must  cultivate  the  habit  of  much  personal  communion  with  God  dur- 
ing the  day ;  speaking  in  the  spirit  to  Iliin  as  well  as  (or  rather  in  order 
to)  living  in  the  Spirit. 

"Nov.  16th. — Yesterday  morning,  as  usual,  rose  at  5.50  a.m. 

"  Had  a  horrid  nightmare — indeed,  a  series  of  them.  What  a  sense  of 
the  horrible  and  awful  we  get  in  our  dreams !  What  a  sense  of  despera- 
tion--of  sore,  irresistible,  mysterious,  soul-subduing  suffering!  Immense 
despair  !  Dreams  have  taught  me,  more  than  my  waking  moments,  the 
capacity  of  the  soul  to  imagine  and  endure  agony.  Oh,  what  if  our  worst 
dreams  ui  solitude,  bereavement,  desertion,  and  grapplings  with  resistless 
and  hellish  foes  were  realities  !     What  if  we  were  in  a  fatherless  world  ! 

"  Monday,  \&th. — How  my  morning  readings  in  Jonathan  Edwards  make 
me  long  for  a  revival.  It  would  be  worth  a  hundred  dead  general  assem- 
blies, if  we  had  any  meeting  of  believing  ministers  or  people — to  cry  to  God 
for  a  revival.  This,  and  this  alone,  is  what  we  want.  Death  reigns!  God 
has  His  witnesses  everywhere  no  doubt — but  as  a  whole  we  are  skin  and 
bone.  When  I  picture  to  myself  a  living  people,  with  love  in  their  looks 
and  words,  calm,  zealous,  self-sacrificing,  seeking  God's  glory,  and  having  in 
Glasgow  their  citizenship  in  Heaven!  it  might  make  me  labour  and  die  for 
such  a  consummation. 

"  Strong  west  wind,  grey  clouds,  and  heavy  lurid  atmosphere ;  on  the 
whole  a  cold  and  cheerless  day.  They  are  at  this  moment  laying  Welling- 
ton beside  Nelson,  and  finishing  an  era  in  British  history.  All  eyes  are 
attracted  at  this  moment  in  London  to  one  common  centre — that  centre  a 
person,  that  person  the  saviom-  of  his  country.  It  is  he  who  gives  unity  to 
the  whole  of  that  immense  mass  of  human  beings  who  now  crowd  the  streets 
through  which  the  body  passes;  and  unity  to  that  marvellous  representation 
of  all  our  nationalities  in  St.  Paul's.  Significant  symbol  of  the  future,  when 
every  eye  shall  see  Him,  and  when  a  risen  Saviour  shall  alone  occupy  the 
thoughts  of  an  assembled  universe  ! 

"Tuesday,  Nov.  \§th. — 5.45  a.m.  Last  night  I  went  to  Camlachie  to 
receive  communicants  in  connection  with  that  chapel. 

"  Material  preparations  of  stipend,  beadles,  committees,  seem  at  the  time 
mere  dead  things,  but  such  details  are  inseparably  connected  with  the  great 
result.  Even  as  the  boat  which  conveyed  Christ  to  the  country  of  the 
Gadarenes  was  connected  with  the  cure  of  the  Demoniac." 

"his  Sister  Jane  : — 

"October,  1852. 

"  One  chief  reason  of  my  writing  to-day  is  immense  cockiness  at  being  able 
to  report  unswerving  doggedness  in  early  rising.  I  preached  yesterday 
tlirice,  one  of  the  services  six  miles  out  of  town,  and  was  up  at  quarter  past 
five — fresh,  joyous,  and  thankful!  Room  dark,  curtains  drawn,  gas  lighted, 
coffee-pot  small  and  neat  (mark  all  this!),  fixed  by  cunning  mechanism  over 
the  gas,  cup  with  sugar  and  cream,  all  so  'jolly.'  Then  begins  the  waking 
up  of  the  great  city,  the  thundering  of  hammers  from  the  boilers  of  great 
Pacific  and  Atlantic  steamers — a  music  of  humanity,  of  the  giant  march  of 
civilisation;  far  grander  to  hear  at  morn  than  even  the  singing  of  larks, 
which  did  very  well  in  Izaak  Walton's  days,  or  the  bleat  of  sheep,  which 
can  yet  meet  my  mother's  rustic  tendencies." 


1851—1856.  225 

From  Iris  Journal  : — 

"Dec.  II th. — I  have  spent  a  weary,  weary  month.  Seldom  have  I  done 
more,  and  done  less.  Oh!  what  a  den  of  lions  for  the  soul  is  the  life  of  an 
active  and  ever  busy  minister!  ]Vly  difficulty  is  not  to  work,  hut  to  do  so 
in  the  right  spirit.  I  do  not  mean  that  I  have  been  consciously  living 
under  the  influence  of  a  bad  spirit,  such  as  vanity,  or  pride,  but  rather  that 
I  have  been  without  that  calm  and  happy  frame  of  mind  which  springs  from 
a  sense  of  God's  presence,  love,  and  blessing.  My  mind  has  been  wander- 
ing without  any  ballast  or  guiding  power,  like  a  feather  before  the  wind, 
almost  every  day  since  this  fearful  winter  campaign  has  set  in. 

"  (1)  How  insignificant  I  am  as  a  mere  workman  ;  an  insect  in  the  coral 
island  of  the  world  which  has  been  building  for  6,000  years.  Who  was  he 
who  helped  to  build  the  palace  of  Nimrod  1  or  the  temple  of  Baalbec  1  or 
planned  Karnac?  Fussy,  important,  of  immense  consequence,  no  doubt! 
As  he  is,  so  shall  I  be — be  at  peace ! 

"  (2)  Jesus  is  governor  !  It  is  His  work,  and  awful  is  it  from  age  to  age, 
from  clime  to  clime  1     It  shall  go  on  without  me — be  at  peace  ! 

"  (3)  Why  does  God  give  me  work  at  all  1  For  no  end  whatever  irres- 
pective of  my  own  good.  He  would  thus  make  me  better,  and  thereby 
happier,  and  educate  me  for  my  great  work  in  Heaven.  He  would  have 
me  be  a  fellow  worker,  having  fellowship  with  Him  not  only  in  activity,  but 
also  in  peace  and  joy.  But  when  I  forget  Him,  or  labour  apart  from  Him, 
or  with  separate  interests,  I  lose  all !  The  work  becomes  outward,  senseless, 
unmeaning.  Lord,  give  me  quiet  and  peace  !  Let  me  work  only  true  work 
in  Thy  Name,  and  by  Thy  Spirit,  and  for  Thy  glory  ! 

"...  The  thunder  and  lightning  of  Sinai  had  a  very  different  meaning 
to  an  Arabian  shepherd,  who  might  be  gazing  on  the  spectacle  from  some 
distant  peak,  from  what  they  had  to  Moses  and  the  children  of  Israel. 
Material  things  may  have  a  meaning  to  angels  which  they  have  not  to  us, 
and  be  sacraments  of  great  truths.  Who  knows  but  the  starry  heavens 
are  one  great  algebra  1 

"  I  believe  thanksgiving  a  greater  mark  of  holiness  than  any  other  part 
of  prayer.  I  mean  special  thanksgiving  for  mercies  asked  and  received.  It 
is  a  testimony  to  prayers  being  remembered,  and  therefore  earnest  prayer. 
It  is  unselfish,  and  more  loving. 

"  What  should  we  think  if  an  angel  from  Heaven  appeared  to  us  some 
morning,  and  said:  'This  day  Satan,  with  all  his  power,  subtlety,  and  wiles, 
may  try  to  destroy  thee ;  and  Jesus  bids  me  say  He  will  shut  His  eyes  and 
ears  to  thee,  and  send  thee  no  help  1  This  day  thou  hast  duties  to  perform 
in  a  right  spirit ;  Jesus  bids  me  say  He  will  not  give  thee  His  Spirit.  This 
day  the  heaviest  trials  ever  experienced  by  thee  may  be  thine ;  Jesus  bids 
me  say  He  will  not  afford  thee  any  support.  This  day  thou  mayest  die  ; 
Jesus  bids  me  say  He  will  not  be  with  thee.  Jesus .  bids  thee  adieu  for 
this  day,  and  leaves  thee  alone  with  thy  evil  heart,  blind  mind,  powerful 
enemies;  hell  beneath  thee,  death  before  thee,  judgment  above  thee,  and 
eternity  before  thee  ! '     Oh,  horrible  despair  ! 

"  But  why  art  thou   not  afraid   of  this   when   a   day  is  begun  without 
prayer  1     Art  thou  not  practically  saying  to  all  this,  '  Amen  !  so  let  it  be  ? ' 
"  Does  God  love  a  cheerful  <nver?  and  is  He  not  one  Himself? 

O  m 

"  A  godly  parent  is  a  god-like  parent,  i.e.  a  parent  who  is  God's  image  m 
the  family — as  God  to  them  in  life,  teaching,  love,  character. 


224  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  A  godly  home-education  is  one  which,  trains  up  the  child  by  the  earthly 
to  the  heavenly  Father. 

"  That  a  parent  may  be  as  God  to  his  child,  he  must  first  be  as  a  child  to 
his  God.     To  teach,  he  must  be  taught ;  and  receive,  that  he  may  give. 

"  What  the  father  on  earth  wishes  his  child  to  be  towards  himself,  that 
God  wishes  the  parent  himself  to  be  towards  his  Father  in  heaven.  Hence 
children  are  witnesses  for  God  in  the  parent's  heart,  as  well  as  the  parents 
are  for  Him  in  the  hearts  of  their  children. 

"  What  a  compound  of  vanity,  greed  and  the  selfishness  which  is  hate  that 
would  end  in  murder,  is  that  villain  Haman  ! — mean,  sneaking,  stuffed 
with  vanity  and  ambition  !  a  thorough  contemptible  scoundrel,  whose  hang- 
ing was  well  deserved  !  His  very  terror  when  condemned  is  so  like  the 
dog — epiite  like  the  cowardly  rascal  that  woidd  hang  others,  and  smoke  his 
pipe,  or  half-drunk,  babble  over  it  with  his  Jezebel  wife." 

From  Diary  Book  of  1853  : — 

"  Resolve,  as  a  solemn  duty  owing  to  my  parish,  to  refuse,  after  this 
date,  public  meetings  in  town  and  country,  and  all  dinners  when  possible, 
and  to  confine  myself  exclusively  to  my  great  parish  till  at  least  April,  i.e. 
four  months,  and  not  to  be  moved  from  this  by  any  arguments,  however 
plausible,  but  to  submit  to  any  amount  of  displeasure  rather  than  give  up  a 
clear  duty. 

"Jan.  1st. — God  has  been  very  merciful  tome  during  the  past  year. 
I  never  had  so  unbroken  a  year  of  prosperity,  in  the  usual  sense  of  that 
word. 

"I  have  preached  about  one  hundred  and  forty  times,  seven  of  them  for 
publSj  collections,  many  for  chapels.  I  have  addressed  about  thirteen 
meetings  for  missions  and  other  useful  objects.  Held  seven  mission  meet- 
ings in  my  own  church.  Published  a  sermon  and  edited  a  magazine.  Or- 
ganized (1)  Schemes,  (2)  Industrial  aid,  (3)  Female  aid,  (4)  Endowment, 
(5)  Education  committees  in  congregation.  Opened  refreshment-rooms  for 
working  classes.  Opened  three  chapels  with  three  missionai-ies.  Suggested 
and  helped  to  carry  out  a  proposal  for  two  new  churches,  for  which  £10,000 
is  now  collected.  About  to  build  three  new  schools.  Have  commenced 
work  in  Barnhill  Poor  House.  Visited  in  twenty-two  days  about  two 
hundred  and  twenty-two  families.  Have  organized  a  congregational  class 
of  one  hundred  and  ten  from  eight  to  fourteen  years  of  age.  Wrote  report 
on  Pauper  Education.*  I  need  to  reform  the  schemes.  Have  had  two 
large  classes  of  young  men  and  women  for  three  months. 

"  The  past  year  has  been  marked  to  me  specially  by  the  gift  of  my  child  ; 
and  what  a  gift !  believing  as  I  do  that,  in  answer  to  prayer,  the  Lord  will 
in  His  own  way  keep  her  with  us  in  the  bundle  of  life  eternal. 

"  April  1th. — Fast-day.     The  kind  of  frittered   life  I  am  compelled  (I 

*  Among  liis  many  duties  aa  minister  of  a  parish,  he  had  to  give  his  attention  to 
the  administration  of  the  Poor-law,  ami  shortly  after  his  induction,  being  shocked  at 
the  number  of  pauper  children  who  were  kept  in  the  workhouse  at  Barnhill,  he  pro- 
posed the  complete  adoption  of  the  '  boarding  out'  system,  whereby  the  young  would 
be  brought  up  in  the  houses  of  decent  people  in  the  country.  This  was  accordingly 
done.  The  following  year  he  wrote  a  long  and  elaborate  paper  on  the  advisability  of 
forming  an  industrial  farm.  This  paper  was  printed  by  order  of  the  Board,  but  it* 
suggestions  were  never  fully  adopted. 


1851—1856.  225 

may  say)  to  Lead,  dipping  like  a  sea-gull  for  my  food  ever  and  anon,  as  it  is 
turned  up  by  some  wave  on  the  surface,  never  diving  deep,  never  soaring 
high,  never  at  rest,  injures  terribly  my  moral  being.  My  brain  becomes 
like  a  bee-hive,  so  that  when  I  begin  to  read  and  pray,  my  thoughts  slide 
off  to  chapels  or  texts,  or  some  scheme  or  sermon,  while  I  utterly  despise 
myself.  I  desire  this  day  to  be  a  day  of  self-examination,  of  thankfulness 
And  quickening. 

"  It  requires  omnipotence  to  make  me  what  I  wish  to  be — simple,  unself- 
ish, and  zealous,  with  nothing  to  keep  the  fire  always  burning,  and  thy 
heart  joyous,  and  the  limbs  strong,  save  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"  London,  May,  1853. 

"  What  a  pious  and  Christian  congregation  I  must  have  had  with  so  many 
of  the  aristocracy  !  I  did  not  preach  any  one  of  the  more  elaborate  ser- 
mons I  had  with  me,  but  one  I  bad  never  written.  But  I  was  convinced 
it  was  best  suited  for  the  audience.  I  had  great  comfort  in  preaching  it, 
because  I  felt  a  sincere  desire  to  do  good,  which  is  always  strength  and 
peace." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

'•'Cove,  August  27th,  1853,  Sabbath. — I  have  taken  this  Sabbath  to  my- 
self, the  only  one  for  two  years,  except  one  in  Paris.  I  need  rest,  and  I  ara 
enjoying  it. 

"  After  my  delightful  congregational  meeting  in  May,  I  went  to  London, 
preached  missionary  sermons  for  Wesleyans,  spoke  at  the  meeting  of  the 
Tract  Society,  and  for  our  own  missions,  and  then  went  with  my  brother 
(Teorge  to  Paris. 

"  It  is  awful  to  feel  what  a  holy  man  with  the  ordinary  measure  of  prac- 
tical talent  which  I  possess  may  do.  We  seek  to  be  Goliaths,  and  are 
killed  by  pebbles.  Could  we  begin  in  faith  and  be  as  little  children,  we 
should  slay  Goliaths  !  O,  my  God,  make  me  a  good  man  !  0,  my  Father, 
<  nine  what  may,  make  me  a  simple-minded,  honest,  humble  and  brave 
Christian  !  Let  me  seek  no  favour  but  Thine,  and  give  my  heart  to  no  la- 
bour but  in  Thee  and  for  Thee  !  With  God  my  Saviour  as  my  help  and 
guide,  I  may,  ere  I  die,  be  a  blessing  to  Glasgow,  especially  to  the  poor  and 
miserable  in  it,  for  whom  my  heart  bleeds. 

"A  lovely  Sabbath-day,  with  calm  seas,  purple  hills,  murmuring  waves, 
devout  repose  !  When  shall  my  brothers  and  sisters  in  the  lanes  and  closes 
tind  such  a  Sabbath  of  peace  and  beauty  in  God  1 

"Sept.  18th. — Have  had  spiritually  a  good  week,  but  physically  one  too 
much  oppressed  by  labour.  I  have  steadfastly  kept  my  hours.  My  read- 
ing has  been  Baxter's  '  Reformed  Pastor'  (very  touching),  and  Mill's  '  Polit- 
ical Economy.'" 

The  following  letter  was  written  to  a  lady  whose  son  had  been 
boarded  with  him  in  Dalkeith,  and  who  was  at  this  time  a  midshipman 
in  the  navy.  The  allusion  to  his  method  of  training  boys  rel'er3  to  the 
principle  he  acted  on  of  frankly  telling  them  of  the  temptations  the7 

15 


226  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

would  be  exposed  to  in  life — "better,"  lie  used  to  say,  "they  should 
hear  all  about  it  from  me  than  from  the  devil;" — and  he  was  overjoyed 
by  now  receiving  a  letter  which  showed  he  had  acted  wisely. 

"I  send  without  hesitation  his  letter  to  myself.  I  cannot  express  to  you 
how  gratified  and  thankful  it  has  made  me.  In  so  teaching  him,  I  followed 
my  own  convictions,  and  carried  qut  a  theory  of  education  which  I  had  long 
held,  founded  chiefly  upon  God's  teaching  in  the  Bible — in  the  Pentateuch 
specially,  which  in  all  its  details  of  crime,  and  awful  warnings,  was  to  be 
read  each  year  to  the  young  as  well  as  to  the  old.  The  evidence  afforded 
by  his  letter  of  the  success  in  his  case  of  such  a  mode  of  instruction  is  most 


encouraging 


To  Mrs.  Dennistoun  :- 


"  Did  no  shadows,  or  shades,  or  shades  of  shadows,  such  as  seldom  dim 
your  fair  spirit,  pass  over  it.  cast  from  the  actual  substance  of  my  careless- 
ness in  not  writing  to  you  %  My  dog  Skye,  often  and  long  the  sole  com- 
panion of  my  study,  alone  knows  the  sorrowing  and  repentings  I  have  had 
anent  unanswered  letters  !  He  has  heard  my  groans,  witnessed  my  tossings, 
and  listened  with  dread  to  the  stampings  of  my  foot !  until,  with  his  quiet 
eye  and  loving  wag  from  that  eloquent  and  soothing  tail,  he  had  quieted 
me  into  better  humour  with  myself.  At  present  having  no  Skye,  but  only 
my  wife  and  child,  I  am  out  of  humour  and  ashamed  of  myself,  and  have 
lost  self-respect. 

"  Oct.  3rd. — How  shall  I  express  my  gratitude  to  God]  This  afternoon 
my  boy  was  born.  I  have  felt  crushed  by  the  weight  of  God's  mercy.  To 
live  in  another  beincf,  and  in  the  highest  form  of  the  human  creation,  is  a 
great  filling-up  of  the  soul's  cravings.  What  an  object  of  love !  The 
moment  I  heard  of  his  birth  I  solemnly  dedicated  him  to  the  Lord,  and  so 
did  we  both  in  prayer  when  we  first  met.  We  cannot  wish  him  to  be  any- 
thing grander  in  the  universe  of  God  than  a  Christian.  This  we  seek  first, 
and  for  this  we  shall  labour  and  pray.  Whatever  else  may  befall  him,  this 
we  seek  as  the  one  thing  needful  for  him,  whether  that  is  to  be  attained 
by  sickness  or  health,  by  poverty  or  wealth.  I  pray  that  whatever  else 
happens,  should  God  so  will  that  the  whole  family  are  to  reach  the  shore  on 
floating  pieces  of  the  wreck  of  a  broken  house,  yet  let  us  all  meet  there,  and 
be  for  ever  with  the  Lord  ! 

"Into  Thy  hands,  our  God,  we  resign  our  children,  and  dedicate  them 
to  God  the  Father,  through  Jesus  the  Son,  and  in  the  Holy  Ghost  the 
Sanctifier,  one  God,  our  God,  and  our  fathers'  God.     Amen!" 


The  Education  question  was  at  this  time  exciting  keen  discussion 
in  Scotland,  and  when  the  proposed  measure  of  Lord  Moncrieff  was 
before  Parliament,  its  merits  were  debated  by  the  Presbytery  of  Glas- 
gow. Norman  Macleod  was  one  of  the  speakers ;  and,  while  he 
defended  the  parish  schools,  and  could  see  no  practical  benefit  likely 
to  accrue  to  the  nation  by  the  severance  of  the  link  which  united  them 
to  the  Church,  he  argued  strongly  in  favour  of  the  Church  herself 


1851—1856.  227 

attempting  to  find  a  basis  on  which  the  three  great  Presbyterian  bodies 
in  the  country  might  co-operate  for  the  furtherance  of  education.  He 
wished  the  privileges  of  an  Establishment  to  he  recognised — 

"  .  .  .  .  as  a  holy  trust  to  be  used  for  the  good  of  the  country  at 
large,  and  of  value  solely  as  employed  for  this  the  true  end  of  her  existence 
in  the  State.  So  far  from  grrftlging  to  share  with  other  bodies  our  peculiar 
advantages,  I  would  hold  it  as  a  first  truth,  and  entering  into  the  essential 
idea  of  Christianity,  that  our  personal  and  social  blessings  are  given  us  not 
for  selfish  enjoyment,  but  to  be  shared  as  far  as  possible  with  others." 

Under  whatever  form  of  management  the  public  schools  might  be 
placed,  he  earnestly  desired  a  higher  and  more  practical  system  of  in- 
struction. 

"  We  want,  for  instance,  a  higher  class  of  industrial  schools,  in  our  large 
towns  especially,  for  our  females,  where,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  branches 
of  learning,  they  must  also  receive  instruction  in  shaping  and  making 
clothes,  in  washing  and  dressing  them,  and  in  cooking  too,  so  as  to  fit  them 
to  become  cleanly,  thoroughly  intelligent  wives,  and  in  every  respect  helps- 
meet  for  an  artisan,  who  could  make  his  home  more  attractive  to  him  than 
the  whiskey-shop,  and  be  themselves  more  companionable  than  its  fre- 
quenters. We  require  a  wider  education  for  our  artisans  themselves,  so  as 
to  train  them  up  to  such  fixed  ideas  and  habits  as  may  fit  them  to  meet  the 
actual  temptations  to  which  they  are  exposed,  to  perform  their  duties  as 
workmen,  parents,  citizens ;  and  so  as  to  enlarge,  also,  the  field  of  their  en- 
joyment as  human  beings  possessed  of  various  tastes  which  are  capable  of 
being  cultivated,  and  made  the  sources  of  refined  pleasure.  To  accomplish 
all  this,  I  think  we  require  a  higher  style  of  teacher,  imbued  with  lofty 
ideas  of  his  high  calling,  as  the  man  who  contributes  so  much  to  mould  the 
character  of  the  nation  and  to  give  a  complexion  to  coming  generations — a 
man,  in  short,  with  somewhat  of  the  spirit  of  Arnold.  I  do  think  that  a 
careful  training  of  our  people — to  enable  them  to  discharge  their  individual 
duties,  such  as  steady  labour,  preservation  of  health,  sobriety,  kindness, 
prudence,  chastity  ;  their  domestic  duties  as  parents  ;  their  duties  as  mem- 
bers of  society,  in  courteous  and  truthful  dealings,  fulfilment  of  engage- 
ments, obedience  combined  with  independence  as  workmen ;  their  duties  to- 
wards the  State,  whether  with  reference  to  their  rulers  or  the  administra- 
tors of  law,  along  with  information  on  the  history  and  government  of  their 
country,  and  such  like — that  upon  such  points  as  these  their  training  has 
been  greatly  neglected,  and  requires  to  be  extensively  improved,  and  based 
upon  and  saturated  with  Christian  principle.  I  think  we  owe  something  to 
the  Secularists  in  directing  our  attention  to  details  in  the  education  re- 
quired for  common  life ;  while  they  ought  to  be  grateful  to  us  for  imbuing 
the  mind  with  the  only  power  which  will  enable  men  to  apply  their  know- 
ledge to  practice." 

From  Lis  Journal  : — 

"April,  23rd,  1854. — I  have  been  very  busy  with  the  memoir.  The 
want  of  incident  is  my  difficulty.       I  must  always  remember  those  reading 


223  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

it  who  never  heard  of  his  name.  I  have  always  felt  an  assurance  that 
Jesus  loved  John  too  well  to  permit  Hie  to  misinterpret  that  character,  which 
had  been  propel  by  His  own  Spirit,  and  which  was  given  me  in  providence 
to  show  to  the  world. 

"  May  1th. — I  go  to-morrow  to  London,  to  preach  for  the  London 
Missionary  Society,  thankful  in  being  honoured  thus  to  help  on  the  world's 
work  of  advancing  Clirist's  kingdom.  Whatever  comes,  I  feel  assured  all 
will  be  well."* 


He  attended  the  General  Assembly  of  1854,  and  took  a  prominent 
part  in  nearly  all  the  debates.  In  this  Assembly — and  this  may  be 
said  of  all  those  of  which  be  was  in  after  years  a  member — his  ad- 
dresses on  the  Missionary  Reports  gave  a  character  of  their  own  to  the 
whole  proceedings.  The  House  was  filled  to  overflowing  when  he  was 
expected  to  speak ;  and  his  appeals,  burning  with  courage,  and  zeal, 
and  hopefulness,  not  only  imparted  new  life  to  the  Assembly,  but  in- 
creased the  influence  of  the  Church  in  the  country. 

In  the  Assembly  of  1854  he  first  took  a  decided  stand  against  the 
party  which  had  ruled  tho  policy  of  the  Church  for  several  years,  and 
which  had  served  in  no  small  measure  to  alienate  from  her  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  nation  by  the  persistency  with  which  it  opposed  every 
public  measure,  however  reasonable,  that  seemed  to  threaten  any  of 
her  ancient  prerogatives.  The  recent  repeal  of  the  Tests  which  had 
hitherto  been  imposed  on  the  professors  of  the  Scotch  Universities — 
who,  on  admission  to  office,  were  required  to  sign  the  Confession  of 
Faith,  and  subscribe  the  formula  of  the  Church  of  Scotland — was  now 
hotly  discussed  in  the  Assembly.  The  wiser  leaders,  while  regretting 
the  sweeping  nature  of  the  change,  were  prepared  "  to  accept  the  in- 
evitable," and  made  a  stand  against  the  section  of  extreme  Conserva- 
tives, who  not  only  wished  to  protest  anew,  but  even  proposed  to  form 
a  new  University  in  connection  with  the  Church.  Norman  Macleod 
had  too  much  common  sense  not  to  perceive  the  folly  of  resisting 
changes  which  the  altered  condition  of  the  country  rendered  necessary 
and  gave  expression  to  his  views  in  a  manner  which  startled  both  sides 
of  the  House,  and  which  rang  through  the  country  as  the  token  of  an 
unexpectedly  liberal  spirit  rising  in  the  Church. 

"  A  great  deal  had  been  said  about  expediency,  about  the  tremendous 
danger  of  vacillation,  and  the  immense  importance  of  what  was  called  stand- 
ing by  their  principles.  It  appeared  to  him  that  one  of  the  greatest 
mistakes  made  by  the  Church  of  Scotland  was  constantly  elevating  things 
which  were  out-and-out  matters  of  expediency,  and  maintaining  that  they 
were  eternal  principles.  There  were  certain  things  that  could  never  change. 
The  eteiual  truth  revealed  by  the  living  God  was,  from  generation  to  gener- 
ation, without  change.     But  there  were  things  that  were  flexible,  and  ought 

*  His  sermon  on  this  occasion  made  a  profound  impression,  and  the  Directors  not 
only  expressed  their  thanks,  but  repeatedly  urged  him  to  publish  it.  This,  how- 
over,  be  declined  to  do. 


1851—1850.  229 

to  be  EOj  and  the  great  error  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  had  ever  been  the 
assuming  of  an  attitude  which  was  said  to  be  one  of  principle,  and  injury 
after  injury  had  been  done  to  the  Church,  not  because  she  would  not  sacri- 
fice her  principles,  but  because  she  would  not  modify  her  institutions  to  suit 
the  times.  Instead  of  doing  this,  she  had  resisted  every  change,  and  this 
had  been  the  source  of  almost  all  the  misfortunes  which  had  ever  befallen 
her.  For  one  evil  that  could  be  pointed  out  arising  from  a  wise  and  judici- 
ous yielding  to  the  times,  he  would  point  out  scores  of  instances,  down  to 
1843,  from  which  she  had  suffered  from  stubbornly  standing  on  pin-points 
called  principles. 

"  ....  It  was  proposed  to  go  to  the  country  for  money  to  build  a 
new  College.  He  objected  to  that  out-and-out.  He  objected  to  the  national 
Church  throwing  herself  loose  from  the  national  Universities,  and  sinking 
down  to  the  position  of  a  mere  sect,  and  handing  over  the  Universities  to 
other  parties.  He  warned  them  that  if  there  issued  from  this  House  opin- 
ions which  obtained  no  sympathy  in  the  country,  instead  of  gaining  a  hold 
on  the  affections  of  the  people,  they  would  come  to  have  no  more  influence 
on  the  nation  than  the  weather-cock  on  the  top  of  the  steeple  affected  the 
people  passing  in  the  street.  Let  them  try  to  educate  the  country  up  to 
their  principles  before  they  proposed  to  them  things  in  which  the  country 
had  no  sympathy. 

"...  He  thought  it  only  fair  to  say  that  he  del  not  know  of  a 
single  measure  that  had  been  passed  by  the  Legislature  which  he  would 
wish  to  see  reversed—  neither  the  Emancipation  Bill,  nor  the  Reform  Bill, 
nor  the  Corn-law  Bill,  nor  the  University  Tests  Bill,  nor  any  other  Bill. 

"  He  was  one  of  those,  moreover,  who  believed  that  the  Legislature  had 
a  perfect  right  so  modify  such  institutions  as  the  Universities  to  meet  the 
wants  of  the  age.  He  was  one  of  those  who  believed  it  was  a  fair  and  a 
right  thing  that  men  who  did  not  belong  to  the  Church  of  Scotland,  but 
who,  like  her,  held  Protestant  principles,  should  be  permitted  to  teach  in 
these  lay  chairs.  He  therefore  wanted  a  Test,  certainly,  and  so  far  he 
differed  from  the  late  Act ;  but  he  did  not  want  such  a  Test  as  was  desired 
by  his  fathers  and  brethren  who  formed  the  majority  of  the  Church ;  nay, 
]>erhaps  he  ought  to  confess  that  he  was  so  very  heterodox,  that  he  should 
not  have  started,  or  thought  the  world  was  coming  to  an  end,  even  if  it  had 
been  proposed  to  place  a  Jesuit  in  a  Medical  Chair,  and  on  this  simple 
ground,  that  if  his  limb  were  to  be  operated  on,  he  should  prefer  a  skilful 
Jesuit  to  an  unskilful  Protestant.  He  would  rather  have  a  man  to  do  it 
well  who  sympathised  with  the  Council  of  Trent,  than  a  man  to  do  it  ill 
who  believed  in  the  "Westminster  Confession  ;  and  he  rather  thought  the 
great  majority  of  the  House  would,  in  such  a  situation,  act  on  the  same 
principles.  He  saw  no  reason  why  such  men  should  not  teach  others  to  do 
well  what  they  did  so  well  themselves.  But  at  the  same  time,  he  did 
desire  that  there  should  be  a  Test  of  some  kind,and  was  very  far  from  speaking 
lightly  of  the  differences  which  separated  them  from  Rome." 

To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Gordon,  Newbattle  :— 

"  Woodlands  Terrace. 

".  .  .  .  Act  of  security  !  It  might  as  well  secure  horse-power  vem<s 
steam  to  all  generations,  as  secure  anything  which  cannot    be  secured  on  its 


230  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

own  footing — i.e.,  because  it  is  worth  securing.  The  only  acts  which  have 
any  security  for  resisting  modern  changes  are  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles — and 
they  will  defy  either  Strauss  or  Wiseman." 

To  Rev.  A.  Clerk,  LL.D. :—  ,  T        ,„. 

"  June,  1854. 

"  The  General  Assembly  was  a  Dead  Sea  of  Common-places — flat,  stale, 
and  unprofitable.  Not  one  flash  of  any  idea  or  sentiment  to  rouse  a  noble 
passion  in  the  soul.  The  Tests  were  of  course  carried  by  a  large  majority. 
I  think  the  Church  is  a  poor  affair  at  present,  but  has  got  a  calling  for  the 
good  of  this  land  and  of  Christendom,  which  she  alone  can  execute  if  she 
would  "! 

To  his  Mother,  on  his  birthday  : — 

"  June,  1854. 

"  Well,  dear,  it  was  a  noble  Assembly,  and  God  enabled  me  to  do  what  I 
have  every  reason  to  believe  was  a  needful  and  good  work  in  it.  I  sought 
His  aid,  and  He  gave  it  to  me.  I  was  greatly  solemnized,  I  assure  you. 
The  reports  give  you  a  poor  idea  of  what  I  said.  Each  speech  was  about 
forty  minutes,  and  nothing  could  exceed  the  cordial  manner  in  which  it  was 
received. 

"  Forty-three  years  since,  I  lay  on  your  knee,  the  object  of  a  love  that,  as 
I  have  often  said,  is  liker  the  love  of  God  than  any  other,  and  which,  in 
your  case,  dearest,  has  been  as  deep,  constant,  and  unwearied  as  ever  existed 
in  any  human  bosom.  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  sigh  for  the  past  and  fear 
the  future.  My  motto  is  not  '  backwards,'  but  '  forwards,'— on  and  on,  for 
over  !  I  wish  no  year  recalled,  unless  I  had  more  grace  with  it  to  make  it 
better  and  to  improve  it  more  for  God's  glory. 

"  '  One  generation  cometh,  and  another  goeth.'  But  I  cannot  wish  more 
for  my  boy  on  earth  than  that  he  should  at  forty-three  have  parents  spared 
to  him  to  be  such  a  source  of  happiness  to  him  as  mine  are  to  me.  God 
bless  you  both  for  all  you  have  been  and  are." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  June  3rd. — I  this  day  enter  my  forty-third  year.  I  feel  how  much  of 
my  life  is  passed,  and  slowly  but  surely  the  force  that  is  in  me  to  do  Christ's 
work  will  begin  to  decline. 

"  Oh,  my  God,  I  have  not  hid  my  daily  shortcomings  from  Thee.  Thou 
hast  forgiven  me  in  Christ.  My  Father,  never  let  me  be  without  the  in- 
dwelling of  Thy  Spirit  for  an  hour,  for  it  would  be  an  hour  of  dreadful 
horror.  Let  my  life  be  every  day  more  unconscious  of  my  own  presence 
and  more  conscious  of  Thine.  Make  me  an  instrument  in  Thy  hands  for 
advancing  Thy  kingdom,  reviving  the  Church  of  Scotland,  and  for  uniting 
all  Christians  in  this  land. 

"  One  man,  O  Lord,  lifts  up  his  voice  and  praises  Thee  that  he  has  been 
born,  because  he  knows  Thee  and  Jesus  Christ  Whom  Thou  hast  sent,  and 
knows  that,  while  no  man  on  earth  deserves  it,  this  is  eternal  life  ! 

"July  23,  1854. — With  the  exception  of  the  preface,  the  Life  is  finished 
and  printed.     Glory  to  God  ! 

'•  When  I  went  to  see  John,  I  put  the  question,  '  What  shall  be  the  end 
thereof}'     How  much  has  been  seen  of  the  end  already  ! 


1851— 185G.  231 

"  It  was  a  strange  feeling,  to  end  a  work  which  had  given  me  his  com- 
panionship for  so  long  a  time.     It  seemed  like  a  second  death  ! 

"Thank  God  I  have  been  enabled  to  write  a  biography  without  one  word 
of  untruth  or  exaggeration  in  it,  as  far  as  I  know.  It  may  not  say  enough, 
or  go  far  enough,  but  all  it  says  is  true ;  as  far  as  it  goes,  it  is  true. 

"  Does  my  dear  friend  know  this  is  done  1  I  believe  he  does,  and  that 
as  far  as  it  is  true,  and  tends  to  glorify  his  Master  in  whose  presence  he  is, 
and  who  is  his  all  in  all,  so  far  he  rejoices  in  it,  so  I  add  to  his  joy.  What 
a  delightful  thought !  For  surely  if  he  knows  that  his  life  has  not  been  so 
unfinished  as  it  seemed  to  have  been,  that  he  is  by  these  memorials  enabled 
to  advance  that  kingdom  much  more  than  he  could  have  done  had  he  been 
spared  to  labour  as  a  minister,  surely  this  will  fill  him  with  deeper  love  to 
Jesus,  and  a  profounder  admiration  of  His  love  and  wisdom,  and  so  increase 
his  own  joy. 

"  What  an  infant  in  spiritual  growth  am  I  to  him  !  But  let  his  bright 
and  beautiful  example  not  cast  me  down,  but  lift  me  up  and  stimulate  me 
to  labour  more  for  Clmst,  and  not  to  be  slothful,  but  through  faith  and 
patience  to  follow  him,  even  as  he  followed  his  Lord. 

" .  .  .  .  How  strange  that  as  yet  my  child  knows  not  God !  I  have 
resolved  that  she  shall  not  hear  His  name  till  she  has  language  to  apprehend 
what  I  mean,  and  that  no  one  shall  speak  of  God  to  her  till  I  do  so.  This 
is  a  moment  in  her  life  which  1  claim  as  my  own.  I  shall  have  the  blessed- 
ness of  first  telling  her  of  Him  who  I  trust  (Oh,  my  Father,  for  Christ's 
sake  let  it  be — oh,  let  it !)  shall  be  her  all  in  all  for  ever  after.  For  a  time 
I  must  be  to  her  as  God :  His  shadow,  His  representative  and  her  father 
on  earth  shall  lead  her  to  Thee,  her  Father  and  mine. 

"  Another  system  than  this  I  know  is  generally  pursued,  and  much  is 
thought  to  be  gained  by  cramming  a  child  with  holy  words  before  it  can 

hardly  lisp  them.     I  heard  last  week  of 's  boy  saying  to  some  one,   '  I 

don't  like  God,  for  He  sends  rain.'  This  was  quite  natural,  but  what  is 
gained  by  such  instruction  V 

To  the  late  Mrs.  Macredie,  Adamton  : — 
"  My  dear  Madam, — 

"  I  make  it  a  rule  never  to  pen  a  letter  except  upon  great  occasions, 
or  to  remarkable  persons.  The  last  I  wrote  was  on  the  great  occasion  of  a 
Free  Church  minister  bowing  to  an  Erastian  ;  and  one  also  to  my  wife, 
when  she  did  implicitly  what  I  commanded  her. 

"  I  take  up  my  pen  once  more.  I  need  not  say  the  dignity  of  the  person 
to  whom  I  write  is  a  sufficient  proof  that  I  do  not  break  through  my  rule. 
But  the  occasion  is  still  moie  remarkable.  What  is  it  1  What  has  happen- 
ed in  the  political,  literary,  or  religious  "world  1     Is  Sebastopol  taken  1  or  is 

the  Irish  Society  defunct  1     Has  the  Pope  asked  Miss in  marriage  ?  Is 

the  Czar  to  be  the  Commissioner  of  next  Assembly  1  Is  Omer  Pasha  to  be 
member  for  Ayrshire  1  Any  or  all  of  those  suppositions  would  be  nothing 
to  the  news  I  have  to  tell  you.  I  assure  you,  nothing  !  Now,  I  would  tell 
you  at  once,  but  I  don't  want  to  give  you  a  shock ;  for  I  was  told  to  be 
cautious,  and  not  to  alarm  you,  but  to  break  the  intelligence  quietly  to  you, 
and  to  take  you,  as  it  were,  round  the  neck  and  breathe  the  thing  in  your 


232  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

ear.  Besides,  when  one  is  nappy — Oh  !  you  see  it,  do  you?  '  Another  son1?' 
My  dear  lady,  you  shock  me  !  What  I  wish  to  say  to  you  is  this — for  I 
am  sony  that  I  am  in  a  hurry,  and  cannot  possibly  write  so  fully  as  I 
would  wish,  and  therefore  must  be  much  more  abrupt  than  is  proper  for  one 
in  your  delicate  health  (though  I  find  that  such  persons  always  live  to  an 
immense  age)  and  so  I  must  just  tell  you  at  once  that — hush  now,  quietly, 
and  don't  get  agitated.  Believe  me,  you  will  survive  it — softly,  and  slowly 
"  Your  daughter,  Mrs.  Dennistoun,  remains  with  us  from  Friday  till 
Monday,  and  I  promised  to  write  to  you.     That's  all." 

To  Thomas  Constable,  Esq.  : — 

"July  18th,  1854. 

"  I  have  always  addressed  you  more  as  the  friend  of  John  Mackintosh 
than  as  the  publisher  of  the  memorials  of  his  life.  As  such  you  will  be 
glad  to  receive  the  conclusion  of  the  last  chapter,  which  I  send  by  this  post. 

"  I  have  been  writing  these  latter  pages  since  early  dawn ;  and  deeply 
affecting  though  they  be,  I  cannot  think  they  will  cost  my  readers  as  many 
teal's  as  they  have  cost  me  while  penning  them.  I  feel  concluding  this  book 
as  a  positive  loss  to  myself.  It  is  like  a  second  death  and  burial.  It  was 
never  a  weariness,  but  a  delight  to  me.  I  fear  that  I  have  failed  to  convey 
but  a  very  feeble  impression  of  those  days  at  Cannstadt.  I  wish  it  had 
been  possible  for  me  to  have  said  less,  and  to  have  permitted  him  to  say 
more;  yet  I  cannot  think  any  one  will  fail  to  discover  in  all  I  have  written 
the  details  of  a  true  story  of  one  of  the  truest  men  that  ever  blessed  the 
earth  by  his  presence.  For  myself,  I  return  my  most  hearty  thanks  to 
Almighty  God  for  having  honoured  me  so  far  as  to  have  permitted  these 
hands  of  mine  to  erect  this  memorial  of  my  beloved  friend  for  the  good  of 
the  Church  and  of  the  world.  Many  will  think  the  work  a  small  one  in 
this  world  of  many  works  and  great  teachers,  but  had  I  done  nothing  more 
than  accomplish  this  one  alone,  I  should  feel  that  I  had  not  been  born  in 
vain,  and  that  it  was  worth  living  for.  It  has  been  begun,  carried  on,  and 
ended  in  prayer;  and  with  the  sincere  desire,  above  all  others,  that  in  him 
his  Lord  may  be  glorified. 

"  You  know  that  I  refuse  all  fee  and  reward  for  this  book,  in  the  shape 
of  money.  Love  is  its  own  reward,  but  I  hope  to  receive  an  immense  re- 
turn for  my  little  labour  in  hearing  from  time  to  time  that  the  character  of 
my  dear  friend  is  being  better  known  and  loved,  and  his  example  followed 
by  many  to  the  glory  of  God." 

From  his  Journal  : 

"  September. — I  visited  Geddes  last  month,  and  I  feel  that  I  have  got  a 
whiff  of  the  same  kind  of  air  John  breathed  there.  How  strange!  Kate 
and  I  both  opened  the  first  copy  of  the  Memoir  there  !  and  that  on  the  day 
after  the  anniversary  of  our  marriage.  We  saw,  too,  old  Saunders  Rose, 
still  alive  and  well  and  holy ;  and  I  held  a  prayer-nieeting  in  the  old  plac* 
where  John  used  to  hold  his,  at  Burnside. 

"It  was  altogether  delightful.  And  then  Loch  Shiel,  John  Shairp 
and  his  wife,  and  the  Communion  at  Kihuallie  together  !  The  Lord  be 
praised  !" 


1851— 185G.  233 

When  lie  undertook  the  congenial  task  of  -writing  the  life  of  his 
dear  friend,  he  determined  that  it  should  be  wholly  a  labour  of  love, 
and  with  the  hearty  consent  of  his  mother-in-law,  Mrs.  Mackintosh, 
he  resolved  to  devote  whatever  profit  might  accrue  from  the  sale  of 
the  Memoir  to  the  Foreign  Mission  of  the  Free  Church.  Mackintosh 
had  been  a  Free  Church  student,  and  the  book  was  virtually  his,  and 
thus  not  only  under  a  sense  of  the  propriety  of  the  act,  but  delighted 
at  the  opportunity  of  giving  expression  to  those  feelings  of  good-will 
which  he  entertained  for  the  missionary  labour  of  all  Churches,  and 
especially  of  that  Church  which,  in  spite  of  recent  controversies  and 
separations,  was  yet  nearest  his  own  in  doctrine  and  government,  he 
forwarded  with  sincere  pleasure  £200  to  her  Indian  Missions.  The 
Free  Church  Assembly  took  the  earliest  opportunity  of  recording  its 
thanks,  which  were  embodied  in  the  following  minute : — 

"  In  acknowledging  receipt  from  the  biographer  and  representatives  of 
the  late  John  Mackintosh  of  £200 — the  entire  profit  derived  from  the  sale 
of  his  Memoir — the  Assembly  desires  to  record  its  deep  and  grateful  sense 
of  the  faithful  and  graceful  manner  in  which  the  Memoir  has  been  written, 
of  the  loss  which  this  Church  has  sustained  in  his  premature  removal,  and 
of  the  considerate  regard  to  his  memory  which  has  prompted  this  generous 
donation,  and  they  instruct  their  Convener  to  communicate  the  same  to 
Mrs.  Mackintosh  and  the  llev.   Norman  Maclcod."* 


To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"Kirkaldy,  Oct.  2,  1854 

"  Kiss  my  boy  for  me  on  his  birth-day,  and  pray  with  me  for  him,  that 
whatever  else  he  is  he  may  be  a  child  of  God. 

"  Please — for  there  is  a  domestic  propriety  which  is  a  gentile  court  to  re- 
ligion— have  my  father,  or  George,  or  both,  to  dinner,  and  drink  my  boy's 
health  in  a  good  bottle  of  champagne,  with  all  the  honours. 

"  Glorious  news  this  of  Sebastopol!     A  great  opening  for  the  gospel." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"  Cratiiie,  Oct.,  1854. 

"This  has  been  a  heavenly  day  of  beauty — the.sky  almost  cloudless;  the 
stones  on  the  hill  side  so  distinct  that  they  might  be  counted ;  the  Dee 
{swinging  past  with  its  deep-toned  murmur. 

"  I  preached  without  a  notice  the  same  sermon  I  preached  at  Morven;f 

*  In  forwarding  this  extract  of  minutes,  the  Convener,  the  late  Dr.  Tweedie,  kindly 
expressed  his  own  sense  of  the  catholicity  of  spirit  which  had  dictated  the  act: — "It 
supplies  in  some  measure  a  presage  of  what  will  take  place  when  external  barriers  shall 
be  removed,  and  when  all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  shaU  be  verily  one  in  spirit  and  in 
truth." 

+  It  is  interesting  to  compare  with  this  the  touching  notice  of  the  service  recorded  by 
Her  Majesty  : — 

"  October  29,  1854. 

"  We  went  to  kirk  as  usual  at  twelve  o'clock.  The  service  waj  performed  by  the 
Rev.  Norman  Macleod,  of  Glasgow,  son  of  Dr.  Macleod,  and  anything  finer  I  never 
heard.      The  sermon,  entirely  extempore,   was  quite  admirable,   so  simple,   and  yet  so 


234  .  LIFE   OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

and  I  never  looked  once  at  the  royal  seat,  but  solely  at  the  congregation.  I 
tried  to  forget  the  great  ones  I  saw,  and  to  remember  the  great  Ones  I  saw 
not,  and  so  I  preached  from  my  heart,  and  with  as  much  freedom,  really,  as 
at  a  mission  station. 

"  And  so  the  day  has  ended,  for  the  present.  The  Lord  brought  me  here. 
He  has  heard  my  prayer,  and  sustained  my  heart,  and  enabled  me  to  do  His 
will.  And  now  I  pray  that  this  talent,  given  me  in  love,  may  be  for  His 
glory.  _ 

"  Kiss  the  bairns,  thank  God  for  me,  and  in  after  years  teach  your  boy 
this  lesson— not  to  seek  his  work,  but  to  receive  it  when  given  him,  and  to 
do  it  to  God  without  fear." 

From  liis  Jourxal  : — 

"  Retrospect. — I  had  received  an  invitation  to  preach  at  Crathie  when  I 
was  at  Kirkaldy.  I  refused  to  go.  I  had  announced  the  opening  of  my 
church,  after  it  had  been  closed  for  two  months  to  be  repaired,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  my  duty  to  open  it  was  greater  than  to  accept  of  Mr. 
Anderson's  invitation  to  preach  before  the  Queen.  The  going  there,  there- 
fore, was  not  sought  for  by  me.  I  returned  home  at  eight  Thursday  night, 
and  found  a  letter  from  Mr.  A.,  stating  that  he  asked  me  at  the  Queen's 
own  request.  My  duty  being  clear,  I  accepted  it.  The  weather  was 
superb,  and  I  was  much  struck  with  the  style  of  the  scenery.  I  have  never 
seen  Ross-shire,  but  I  see  a  marked  difference  between  the  Highlands  of 
Morayshire  and  Aberdeenshire  and  the  West  Highlands,  especially  in  the 
glens,  and  the  large,  full-flowing  rivers,  such  as  the  Spey,  the  Findhorn, 
and  the  Dee,  which  sweep  so  majestically  through  them,  with  abundance  of 
elbow  room,  and  not  cramped  by  slate  and  granite  into  raging,  roaring 
streams.  And  then  the  decided  marks  of  culture  in  the  valleys — the  broad 
plantations,  the  green  fields,  and  the  stately  homes  of  a  wealthy  aristocracy, 
and — that  I  do  not  forget  it, — the  colouring  of  the  floors  of  the  woods  !  No 
long,  damp  grass,  but  the  glorious  mosses,  rich  and  golden,  illumined  by  the 
fiery  heather  bell. 

"  The  Sunday  at  Balmoral  was  perfect  in  its  peace  and  beauty.  I  con- 
fess that  I  was  much  puzzled  what  to  preach.  I  had  with  me  some  of  my 
best  sermons  (as  people  would  call  them)  ;  but  the  struggle  which  had  be- 
gun on  Friday  morning  was  renewed — as  to  what  was  best  in  the  truest, 
most  spiritual  sense  for  such  an  occasion ;  until,  by  prayer,  I  resolved  to 
preach  without  any  notes  a  sermon  I  never  wrote  fully  out,  but  had  preached 
very  often,  perhaps  fifteen  times,  solely  because  I  found  that  it  had  found 
human  spirits,  and  had  done  good.  It  was  from  Matt.  xi.  28-30,  Mark  x. 
17-31.  I  tried  to  show  what  true  life  is — life  in  the  spirit — a  finding  rest 
through  the  yoke  of  God's  service,  instead  of  the  service  of  self,  and  by  the 

eloquent,  and  so  beautifully  argued  and  put.  Mr.  Macleod  showed  in  the  sermon  how 
we  all  tried  to  please  self,  and  live  for  that,  and  in  so  doing  found  no  rest.  Christ  had 
come  not  only  to  die  for  us,  but  to  show  how  we  were  to  live.  The  second  prayer  was 
very  touching  ;  his  allusions  to  ns  were  so  simple,  saying  after  his  mention  of  us,  'bless 
their  children.'  It-gave  me  a  lump  in  my  throat,  as  also  when  he  prayed  for  '  the  dying, 
the  wounded,  the  widow,  and  the  orphans.'  Every  one  came  back  delighted  ;  and  how 
satisfactory  it  is  to  come  back  from  church  with  such  feelings  !  The  servants  and  the 
Highlander — all — were  equally  delighted. " 


'in 


1851—1856.  2:>:» 

cross  of  self-denial,  instead  of  self-gratification,  illustrated  by  the  young  man 
who,  with  all  that  was  so  promising,  would  not  peril  his  happiness  by  ueok- 
ing  it  with  Christ  in  God. 

"  I  preached  with  intense  comfort,  and  by  God's  help  felt  how  sublime  a 
tiling  it  was  to  be  His  ambassador.  I  felt  very  acutely  how  for  our  sake* 
the  Queen  and  the  Prince  were  placed  in  so  trying  a  position,  and  was  pro- 
foundly grateful  for  the  way  in  which  tliey  had  governed  us;  and  so  it  was 
that  I  was  able  to  look  back  from  the  future,  and  to  speak  as  I  shall  wish  I 
had  done.  It  would  be  most  ungrateful  in  me  not  to  record  this  singular 
mercy  of  God  to  me;  for  I  do  know,  and  rejoice  to  record  for  the  strength- 
ening of  my  faith  in  prayer,  that  He  did  it.     Thus  I  enjoyed  great  peace. 

"  In  the  evening,  after  daundering  in  a  green  field  with  a  path  through  it 
which  led  to  the  high  road,  and  while  sitting  on  a  block  of  granite,  full  of 
quiet  thoughts,  mentally  reposing  in1  the  midst  of  the  beautiful  scenery,  I 
was  roused  from  my  reverie  by  some  one  asking  me  if  I  was  the  clergyman 
who  had  preached  that  day.  I  was  soon  in  the  presence  of  the  Queen  and 
Prince ;  when  her  Majesty  came  forward  and  said  with  a  sweet,  kind,  and 
smiling  face,  '  We  wish  to  thank  you  for  your  sermon.'  She  then  asked 
me  how  my  father*  was — what  was  the  name  of  my  parish,  &c.  ;  and  so, 
after  bowing  and  smiling,  they  both  continued  their  quiet  evening  walk 
alone.  And  thus  God  blessed  me,  and  I  thanked  His  name.  I  posted 
home  by  Glenshee — not  well — and  was  in  bed  all  the  week.  So  ends  my 
story.  I  read  its  commencement  and  ending  to  remind  me  how  God  is 
always  faithful.      '  O  ye  of  little  faith,  wherefore  did  you  doubt  1 '  " 

To  the  Rev.  Mr.  Watson,  Chaplain  in  the  Crimea  : — 

"  God  bless  and  prosper  you  in  your  work.  I  almost  envy  you,  danger- 
ous though  it  be.  I  have  such  immense  admiration  of  those  glorious  fellows 
that  I  would  rejoice  to  be  with  them.  It  is  right  and  becoming,  too,  that 
those  who  are  soldiers  only  of  Christ  should  share  their  danger,  so  as  to 
help  them  to  share  with  us  the  life  which  is  eternal.  We  should  not  shrink 
at  such  a  time,  if  God  calls  us  to  this  work.  No  doubt  you  have  made  up 
your  mind  to  die,  and  this  is  the  true  way  of  being  brave  and  of  finding 
perfect  peace." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"January  1,  1855,  7  A.M. — In  the  name  of  God  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Spirit,  my  God,  I  begin  the  year  !  I  am  Thine  by  creation  and  redemption, 
and  by  choice  on  my  part ;  I  am  Thine  for  ever,  and  I  desire  to  consecrate 
every  power  and  faculty  of  body  and  soul  to  Thy  service — knowing  Thee, 
the  ever-blessed  One,  whose  service  is  unutterable  joy.  To  know  Thee 
truly  in  any  degree  is  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory.     Amen  ! 

"The  year  '55  promises  to  be  a  very  solemn  one.  What  battles  and 
victories,  defeats  and  sufferings  !  What  brave  and  illustrious  men,  after- 
wards to  be  the  Nelsons  and  Wellingtons  of  Britain,  or  the  Napoleons  of 
France — are  now  in  embryo !  That  civilisation,  libertj^,  religion,  peace 
will  triumph,  is  of  course  as  certain  as  that  Jesus  Christ  reigns  !  He  does 
reign — what  a  source  of  joy  ! 

*  His  father  had  preached  before  Her  Majesty  and  the  Prince  Consort  at  Blair  Athol 
on  the  occasion  of  their  visit  to  Scotland. 


236  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  I  have  established  a  mission  to  the  hospital  at  Scutari,  and  am  acting 
as  secretary  to  it. 

"Jan.  12th. — Nothing  can  exceed  the  present  complexity  of  the  politics 
of  the  world.  This  war  is  drawing  all  nations  slowly  into  it  like  a  huge 
maelstrom ;  and  on  what  side,  or  with  what  damage,  they  are  to  be  hurled 
out  of  the  maelstrom,  the  Lord  knoweth !  America  sympathises  with 
Kussia,  solely  because  Russia  opens  up  prospects  of  trade  directly  and  in- 
directly, and  is  the  enemy  of  her  British  rival — for  the  Yankees  have  con- 
centrated all  greatness  in  the  dollar.  Rome  is  against  Russia  on  Church 
grounds,  and  Britain  is  now  fighting  Rome's  cause  with  France  and  Austria. 
Prussia  holds  back.  Sardinia,  becoming  Protestant,  comes  forward.  Tur- 
key, tottering  to  her  fall,  from  the  inherent  weakness  of  her  false  religious 
lite,  is  in  vain  propped  up  by  the  allies,  though  this  will  make  her  fall  only 
the  more  conspicuous,  and  show  God's  judgment  on  a  lie. 

"  Peace  !  It  seems  to  me  as  if  the  world  was  but  mustering  its  forces  for 
such  a  campaign  as  will  revolutionise  it  and  somehow  usher  in  the  glory  of 
the  latter  days.  I  wish  I  could  sue  the  cud.  But  I  shall  know  it  some 
day." 

To  Mrs.  Dennk-toux,  on  the  death  of  her  Aunt  : —  "January  29   1855. 

"  How  could  that  life  have  been,  if  her  faith  in  Jesus  was  not  faith  in  a 
real  living  Person  ?  Could  a  mere  delusion,  a  fancy,  produce  such  a  result 
of  character,  so  true,  so  real,  so  deep,  so  long  preserved,  as  she  had  1  Im- 
]K)ssible  !  and  therefore  one  reads  her  life  and  death  as  a  living  Epistle, 
which  speaks  of  the  power  of  a  living  Saviour  to  keep  the  soul  ever  young, 
and  ever  fresh,  in  its  tendernesses  and  sympathies ;  to  enable  one  down  to 
extreme  old  age  to  carry  about  with  them  the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jesus  in 
their  mortal  bodies,  that  so  the  life  of  Jesus  might  be  manifested  in  them. 
How  beautiful  was  her  love,  how  enlarged,  beaming  from  that  bed  like  stm- 
light,  on  every  one  and  every  thing  around.  I  would  be  an  atheist  if  I 
could  believe  such  a  light  could  set  for  ever  in  darkness  !  It  cannot  be.  It 
has  never  ceased,  and  never  shall  cease,  to  shine  in  God's  own  sky." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  March  2nd. — This  night  heard  of  the  death  of  the  Czar  yesterday  in  St. 
Petersburg.  How  the  news  will  run  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  for  one 
true  mourner,  how  many  millions  will  rejoice  ! 

"There  he  lies,  the  giant  man — the  'every  inch  a  king.'  Silent  and 
Jead  as  the  marble  of  his  palace. 

"  What  shall  be  the  effect1?  Peace?  or,  as  I  believe,  a  European  blaze, 
and  the  ultimate  freedom  of  the  world? 

"  The  word  of  the  Lord  endureth  forever ! 

"April  21th. — I  leave  this  day  for  Edinburgh  Communion,  London  Bible 
Society,  Holland,  and,  D.  V.,  home. 

"  I  have  had  a  healthy,  happy  and  busy  winter,  and  require  some  breath- 
ing time.  May  God  in  mercy  sanctify  it  for  my  good,  bring  me  home 
Blronger  in  soul  and  body." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  :—  «  London,  May  22,  1855. 

"  I  had  a  jolly  sleep  beside  C ,  who  evidently  dreamt  he  was  a  High 


1851- 1850..  237 

land  terrier  worrying  another,  from  the  barks  which  he  gave  in  his  sleep. 

The  snores  of  M were  quite  orthodox.     They  were  rather  too  barefaced 

a  copy  of  those  of  his  congregation.  I  never  closed  an  eye,  of  course! 
Poor  fellow !  But  I  meditated  so  profitably  that  I  counted  only  two  towns 
on  the  way — Newcastle  and  York." 

7V>  the  Same  : — 

"  London. 

"  Dined  at 's.     There  was  a  party  of  eight  or  nine.     Most  of  them 

English  parsons,  with  the  usual  amount  of  thoroughly  correct  manners, 
firge  hearts,  middling  heads,  and  knowing  nothing  of  Scotland  except  as  a 
place  in  the  Islands  from  which  groune  come.  But  really  '  very  nice — you 
know.'" 

To  the  Same  : — 

"Antwerp,  May  4,  11  p.  m. 

"  Enjoyed  Bruges,  and  reached  Ghent  at  2.  (0,  those  glorious  chimes  of 
the  old  cathedral !)  Saw  the  fine  Cathedral  and  Van  Eyck's  delightful  pic- 
ture. O,  what  truth  !  what  a  love  of  nature  !  what  a  taste  for  beauty  hail 
the  Mendings  and  Yan  Eycks  !  Some  of  the  peeps  through  windows  by 
the  former  and  his  minute  painting  of  flowers  and  trees  so  delicious  !  In 
Poussin's  famous  painting  of  '  Christ  in  the  midst  of  the  Doctors,'  such  », 
head  of  Charles  Y.  is  introduced,  and  of  the  Duke  of  Alva  !" 

To  the  Same  : — 

"The  Hague,    Tuesday  Morning. 

••I  have  seen  great  paintings,  but  no  great  men. 

••  I  have  received  much,  very  much  kindness  from  the  Van  Loons  and 
others,  and  I  hope  to  meet  as  much  more  at  Leyden  and  Amsterdam. 

"  The  royal  family  were  all  in  church,  hearing  dear  Boucher,  on  Sabbath. 
The  King  was  heard  saying  to  his  sister,  when  he  went  out,  '  How  sublime  I 
I  never  heard  anything  like  it.'  '  Nor  I,'  replied  the  sister,  'but  I  haveiio 
words  to  utter  what  I  feel.'     It  was  indeed  a  noble  discourse." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"June  7>rd,  1855. — I  am  forty-four.  I  preached  on  the  birth  of  a  child 
being  a  legitimate  cause  of  joy.* 

"  Glory  to  God  that  I  have  been  lx>rn  !  I  praise  Him  and  bless  Him  for 
the  gift  of  existence  in  a  world  in  which  His  own  Son  has  been  born  a 
Saviour,  a  Brother,  and  in  which  He  rules.  I  praise  Him,  I  bless  Him  for 
such  a  gift,  so  worthy  of  Himself. 

"  Oh,  may  I  realize  His  purpose  more  and  more  by  being  more  and  more 
His  own  child  in  simplicity,  humility,  faith,  love,  and  undivided  obedience  ! 
Intense  life  in  Christ  is  intense  joy. 

"  I  begin  this  week  to  visit  my  congregation  once  more.  I  feel  that  per- 
sonal acquaintance  and  private  friendship  must  be  the  foundation  of  public 
good.  My  schools  are  all  paid  for.  I  desire  to  dedicate  my  powers  with 
more  intense  devotion  to  God. 

*  Published  in  Good  Words  for  1873. 


238  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  June  8th. — This  day  I  heard  my  little  girl  mention,  for  the  first  time, 
the  name  of  God.  I  had  requested  no  one  ever  to  speak  to  her  of  God  un- 
til I  first  had  this  honour,  but  the  new  servant  had  done  it ;  so  1  took  the 
child  on  my  knee  (in  Bothwell,  where  we  are)  and  asked  her  several  ques- 
tions as  to  who  made  her  and  everything,  and  she  replied,  '  God.'  O,  how 
indescribably  strange  and  blessed  to  my  ears  was  the  sound  !  It  cannot 
cease  forever  !  My  prayer,  my  daily  jDrayer,  is  that  she  and  all  my  dear 
children  may  be  holy  from  their  infancy,  and  grow  up  Christians.  This, 
indeed,  can  only  be  through  the  Spirit ;  but  surely  there  is  no  necessity  that 
they  should  grow  up  at  any  time  hating  God  !  Must  they  be  as  devils  in 
their  youth,  and  be  afterwards  converted?  God  forbid  !  My  prayer  and 
liope  is  that  they  shall  grow  up  in  the  nurture  of  the  Lord,  and  be  His  own 
dear  children  from  their  infancy.  Why  not  love  Him  as  well  as  me,  their 
earthly  father  1  Oh,  beloved  Saviour,  take  them  as  babes  into  thine  own 
arms,  and  bless  them  and  make  them  thine  !  May  they  never,  never  moni- 
tion the  name  of  God,  but  as  that  of  a  Father. 

"  Lord  !  my  hope  is  in  Thee.     Let  me  not  be  put  to  shame." 

To  his  Aunt,  Mrs.  Maxwell,  after  the  burial  of  her  hushand  at  Campsie  : — 

"Bothwell,  July  20,  1855. 

"  We  have  just  returned  from  that  green  spot  where  are  gathering  tl vv 
earthly  remains  of  so  many  who  made  the  earth  beautiful  to  us,  and  whose 
undying  spirits  make  Heaven  more  homely  to  us.  When  standing  there  it 
was  glorious  to  feel  that  we  could  not  sorrow  for  one  of  our  own  there  as 
*  without  hope,'  but  in  the  sure  and  certain  hope  of  a  resurrection  unto  life 
for  them  in  Christ.  How  peacefully  did  he,  the  last  la)d  there,  repose  after 
his  long  and  harassing  journey  !  God  alone,  who  knew  his  frame,  and  the 
mysterious  influence  which  the  frail  body  so  mightily  exercises  over  the 
mind,  can  tell  what  a  life  struggle  he  had  !  But  he  fought,  and  that  was 
everything ;  and  I  heartily  believe  that  he  is  now  in  His  presence  for  ever- 
more, with  exceeding  joy;  and  few  there  will  cast  their  crowns  down  with 
more  exceeding  reverence,  humility,  and  awe,  and  acknowledge  more  iov- 
fully  the  exceeding  riches  of  the  grace  of  Christ  bestowed  upon  him.  I 
shall  take  good  care  that  my  children  shall  hear  of  those  uncles  and  aunts 
whom  we  all  so  much  loved  and  admired — of  their  refined  and  exquisite 
honour,  their  deep  and  touching  benevolence,  their  tender  and  sympathizing 
hearts,  their  beautiful  and  transparent  truthfulness,  and  admiration  of  all 
that  was  really  good  and  true. 

"  In  a  few  years  that  spot  in  Campsie  will  be  full.  I  hope  to  lie  there 
with  my  wife,  and  possibly  my  family.  '  Then  cometh  the  end.'  With 
Buch  an  end  we  may  well  pray,  '  Thy  kingdom  come,  Thy  will  be  done  on 
earth  as  it  is  in  Heaven.' " 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"August  2\st,  1855. — I  start  this  day,  with  Dr.  Craik,  for  the  Paris 
Conference  of  the  Evangelical  Alliance.  I  am  very  glad  to  do  so,  for  I 
have  had  a  busy  summer. 

"  I  pray  that  good  may  come  to  the  Church  of  Christ  out  of  this  Confer- 
ence ;  that  God  may  give  us  all  humility,  justice,  love,  and  wisdom,.     May 


1851— 1856.  230 

I  be  kept  with  a  pure  heart  and  single  eye,  speaking  the  trath  in  love,  fear- 
ing neither  the  Avorld  profane  nor  the  world  religious,  but  obeying  God's 
Spirit. 

"  Lord  !  keep  my  beloved  ones  in  my  absence ;  and  keep  my  soul,  spirit, 
and  body,  for  Thy  glorious  and  eternal  kingdom  !" 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  :— 

"Paris,  Augutit,  1855. 

"Dinner  at  Herschell's;  Krummachcr,  Count  St.  George,  and  others 
there.  Went  to  the  Exposition;  the  finest  collection  of  paintings  I  ever 
saw.  The  heat  past  endurance ;  I  walk  twelve  miles  daily.  The  Alliance 
of  no  use  ;  private  meetings  to-day  to  try  to  make  it  so.  Heard  a  Pusey- 
ite  sermon ;  horrid  trash.  No  one  from  Scotland  has  preached.  Lad 
arrangements.  The  life  spent  by  us  most  agreeable  and  most  useful  to  our 
selves,  but  utterly  useless  to  others,  except  the  cafes.  The  Queen  left- 
to-day  ;  the  day  glorious,  the  scene  magnificent ,  felt  my  heart  beat  in  hear- 
ing '  God  save  the  Queen'  as  the  grand  cortege  passed  along  the  Boulevards — - 
she  looking  so  well — the  Emperor  and  Prince  Albert  on  one  side,  and  the 
Queen  and  another  lady  on  the  other." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  October  1st,  1855. — Things  to  be  aimed  at  and  prayed  for: — 

"1.  To  perfect  holiness.  Is  it  possible  that  I  shall  habitually  possess 
myself,  and  exercise  holy  watchfulness  over  my  words  and  temper,  so  that 
in  private  and  public  I  shall  live  as  a  man  who  truly  realizes  God's  constant 
presence — who  is  one  with  Christ,  and  therefore  lives  among  men  and  act3 
towards  them  with  His  mind  and  spirit  1  I,  meek,  humble,  loving,  ever  by 
my  life  drawing  men  to  Christ — self  behind,  Christ  before  !  I  believe  this 
to  be  as  impossible  by  my  own  resolving  as  that  I  become  a  Shakespeare,  a 
Newton,  a  Milton;  yet  if  God  calls  me  to  this,  Gocl  can  so  enable  me  to 
realize  it  that  he  shall  be  pleased  with  me.  But  will  I  really  strive  after 
it?  Oh,  my  Father  !  see,  hear,  and  help  Thy  weak  and  perishing  child ! 
For  Christ's  sake,put  strength  in  me  ;  fulfil  in  me  the  good  pleasure  of  Thy  will. 
Lord,  pity  me  and  have  mercy  on  me,  that  I  may  famish  and  thiist  for 
Thee  and  perfect  holiness  ! 

"  2.  To  know  and  improve  every  talent  to  the  utmost,  whether  in  preach- 
ing, writing,  speaking,  acting.  I  feel  convinced  that  every  man  has 
given  him  of  God  much  more  than  he  has  any  idea  of,  and  that  he  can  help 
on  the  world's  work  more  than  he  knows  of.  "What  we  want  is  the  single 
eye  that  will  see  what  our  work  is,  the  humility  to  accept  it,  however  lowly, 
the  faith  to  do  it  for  God,  the  perseverance  to  go  on  till  death. 

"Wise  and  loving  Father !  Magnify  Thy  patience  in  my  wilfulness  and 
stupidity,  Thy  strength  in  my  weakness.  Thy  mighty  grace  in  my  paltry 
vanity,  Thy  love  in  my  selfishness.  Let  not  the  fragments  of  my  poorly 
educated  mind  and  broken  time  be  lost,  but  glorify  Thyself  in  me,  that 
when  I  die  some  shall  feel  and  acknowledge  Thy  goodness  in  having  created 
me,  and  given  me  to  my  fellow  men.  What  may  I  yet  be  and  do  in  Thee  ! 
Oh  let  all  worldly  ambition  be  mortified,  and  a  holy  ambition  take  its 
place  ! 

"  Have  been  seeing ;  just  dying ;  full  of  anxiety  for  his  soul ;  deeply 


240  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

feel  for  him.  Notice  !  how  that  one  name  of  Jesus  is  all-in-all  !  Men  may 
argue  about  the  Atonement ;  but  the  fact  of  an  Atonement  alone  finds  and 
meets  a  sinner  crying  out  for  mercy.  What  can  philosophy  do  for  such,  or 
an  atonement  of  mere  self-sacrifice  %     It  would  only  deepen  the  sense  of  sin. 

"  Oct.  30,  5ljr  p.m.— I  have  this  moment  finished  my  little  book  on  the 
Home  School.  I  have  made  it  a  subject  of  constant  prayer,  and  have  sin- 
cerely tried  to  write  what  may  do  good  to  my  fellow-men.  I  believe  God 
will  grant  it  such  a  measure  of  success  that  I  shall  not  be  put  to  shame.  I 
do  crave  the  reward  of  its  helping  human  hearts  to  do  God's  will.  If  I  am 
taken  away,  I  feel  it  will  be  a  pleasing  little  legacy  to  my  beloved  wife  and 
children.  The  latter  will  learn  what  the  former  already  knows,  and  what 
(thank  God  !)  r^e  sincerely  sympathises  with  me  in — for  in  this,  as  in  all 
things,  we  are  fellow-workers.  The  children  will  know  what  their  father 
wished,  prayed  for,  and  resolved  to  labour  for. 

"There  are  stages  in  the  love  to  God  found,  I  think,  in  the  experience 
of  all  advanced  Christians.  The  first  is  love,  or  rather  gratitude,  for  what 
God  has  done  or  is  to  us;  the  second,  love  for  what  He  is  in  Himself;  the 
third,  a  love  which,  not  satisfied  with  personal  enjoyment,  desires  that  the 
universe  may  share  it,  and  is  grieved,  amazed,  horrified,  that  any  should  b« 
blind  to  it— that  we  ourselves  should  have  been  so,  and  see  it  so  dimly. 
Do  I  desire  that  God  should  thus  be  glorified  i" 

To  his  Sister  Jane  : — 

"  I  know  you  would  like  a  jj'arn  about  all  manner  of  particulars,  but  it  is 
simply  impossible.  I  believe  the  time  is  soon  coming  when  visits  and  mes- 
sages by  thetelegraph  will  be  common,  but  lettei'sas  much  out  of  dateas  folios. 
The  Apostle  John's  letters  are  not  very  long,  but  the  writing  of  them  seems 
to  have  been  uncongenial,  for  he  frets  against  pen  and  ink.  Bj-  the  way, 
it  was  to  a  lady,  who  I  have  no  doubt  complained  of  his  not  writing  as  long 
letters  to  her  as  Paul  did  to  some  of  his  other  friends." 

To  his  Brother  Donald,  then  abroad  : — 

"  I  rejoice  that  you  are  getting  into  good  French  society.  See  as  many 
persons  as  you  possibly  can — as  various  types  of  opinion  as  possible.  Be 
not  ashamed  to  confess  ignorance,  and  be  always  asking,  and  you  will  learn 
much.     Men,  men — meet  men  ! 

"Beware  with  intense  watchfulness  against  the  scnsualising  tendency  of 
excitement  and  living  abroad.  The  society  of  the  good  is  the  best  help 
against  this — next  to  devotion." 

To  the  Same  : — 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  at  art.  Try  and  get  a  vivid  impression  of  the  differ- 
ent schools.  Study  chronologically.  I  i-emember  there  are  at  Munich  fine 
specimens  of  sketches  by  Van  Dyck,  a  number  of  wonderful  Reubens,  with 
excellent  specimens  of  the  Flemish  school,  Berghen,  &c. 

"  Wo  had  a  noble  meeting  of  the  British  Association.  All  the  loading 
men  were  in  church.  Had  a  glorious  talk  with  Rawlinson — sein  evjoncr 
iSturnl punkt. 

•'  Do,  my  dear  fellow,  study  hard  at  language.     Study,  you  rascal,  study!" 

"Jan.   17,  185G. — Report,   this  morning  of  the   prospect   of  peace   with 


1851— 185G.  241 

Russia,  rcaco  is  joy  as  far  as  the  present  suffering  is  concerned.  But  as 
far  as  the  interests  of  man  are  concerned,  and  the  position  of  our  country, 
I  mourn  the  news.  We  have  come  out  of  this  war  lower  in  every  respect 
in  the  world's  opinion  than  when  we  entered  it.  I  fear,  if  the  war  ends, 
that  it  will  be  merely  to  give  time  to  Russia  to  prepare  for  another  by  be- 
coming herself  stronger,  and  biding  her  time  till  the  Western  powers  are 
disunited.  The  salvation  of  the  world  now  will  be  pushing  missions  in  the 
East,  and  overturning  all  things  from  within,  leave  the  without  to  come 
right  in  its  own  time." 

From  hi8  Journal  : — 

"Feb.  29 — I  have  had  one  of  the  severest  fourteen  days  of  mental  and 
bodily  fatigue — chiefly,  if  not  wholly,  the  former — which  I  have  had  for 
years.  Last  week,  after  a  previous  week  of  toil,  there  was  Monday  and 
Tuesday  writing  and  dictating,  changing  and  reducing  a  letter  in  reply  to  a 

horrid  one  from .     The  struggle — and  it  was,  I  am  ashamed  to  say, 

dreadful — was  to  write  and  feel  as  a  Christian,  when  my  flesh  could  have  so 
written  that  it  would  have  been  to  him  as  flaying  alive." 

To  his  Sister  Jane  : — 

"Feb.  9,  1856. 

"  I  have  (as  Jean  used  to  say)  been  '  painfully  exercised '  by  this  unjust 
attack  from .  My  struggle,  you  understand,  is  between  the  tempta- 
tion to  yield  to  anger  and  my  conviction  that  it  is  the  will  of  Christ  that  I 
should  so  love  him  as  to  consider  the  evil  in  him,  and  seek  to  deliver  him 
from  it.  How  horrible  to  be  obliged  to  fight  all,  to  feel  the  desire  strong, 
to  be  unable  to  say,  I  love,'  to  feel  the  congeniality  of  revenge !  0  pride  ! 
O  vanity?  How  I  pray  not  only  to  speak  and  write  as  a  Christian,  but  oh, 
dearest,  to  feel  truly  as  one  ! 

"  As  to  John  Campbell's  book  on  the  'Atonement,'  it  is  like  himself,  dark, 
but  deep,  and  very  true.  I  think  it  has  led  me  captive.  I  shall  read  it 
again ;  but  it  finds  me,  and  fills  up  a  huge  void.  I  fear  that  no  one  has  read 
it  but  myself." 

"  Sep.  27th. — In  May  I  went  to  London  and  preached  for  Herschell  and 
the  Sailors'  Friend  Society,  and  then  went  to  visit  my  dear  friend  Mrs. 
Dennistoun  at  Tours.  We  had  most  delightful  drives,  visiting  Mettray, 
Plessy  de  Tours,  and  the  old  Bastille  of  Loches.  I  attended  the  Assembly 
for  a  day  in  May.  They  carried,  by  an  immense  majority,  the  India  Educa- 
tion measure,  for  which  Dr.  Bryce  and  I  contended  almost  alone.1' 

This  allusion  to  the  India  Education  measure  refers  to  a  discussion, 
which  had  been  agitating  the  Church  for  some  time,  as  to  the  lawful- 
ness of  accepting  for  mission  schools  the  Government  Grants  in  Aid 
while  these  grants  were  given  equally  to  heathen,  or,  at  all  events,  non- 
Christian,  schools.  The  extreme  "Evangelical"  party  contended 
against  the  Church  condoning  a  measure  which  they  thought  ought 
never  to  have  been  passed  by  a  Christian  State.  On  the  other  hand 
Korrnan  Macleod  and  Dr.  Bryce  held  that  it  was  impossible  for  the 
tiovornmeut  to  take  any  narrower  ground  in  dealing  with  a  country 

1G 


242  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

circumstanced  like  India.  They  insisted  that  it  would  be  the  height 
of  folly  in  the  Church  to  refuse  assistance  from  Government  in  the 
matter  of  secular  instruction,  as  long  as  she  was  left  free  to  add  religious 
teaching;  and  they  were  persuaded  that  to  separate  the  mission  schools 
from  the  educational  system  of  India  was  simply  to  throw  away  an 
opportunity  for  exercising  a  wide  and  wholesome  influence.  The  vote 
of  the  Assembly  endorsed  their  views,  and  thus  inaugurated  a  revolu- 
tion in  the  policy  of  the  India  Mission  of  the  Church. 


From  his  Journal. 

"Glasgow,  August,  1856. — The  Evangelical  Alliance  met  here.  I  made 
the  first  speech,  bidding  its  ministers  welcome.  I  had  much  happy  com- 
nmnication  with  Sherman,  William  Monod,  Krummacher  and  Kuntze  from 
Berlin,  and  Herschell. 

"I  preached,  on  the  24th,  to  a  great  crowd,  among  others  to  Mr.  Stanley 
who  was  introduced  to  me  by  John  Shairp.*  In  the  evening  we  had  a 
prayer  meeting  for  winding  up  the  Scutari  Mission,  which  I  bless  God  to 
have  begun,  carried  on,  and  ended. 

"  October  3rd. — I  am  just  starting  for  Balmoral.  I  believe  I  could  not 
have  travelled  a  week  sooner,  since  I  received  the  invitation  the  beginning 
of  September  at  Kirkaldy,  when  I  could  not  turn  in  bed.  I  go  in  Christ's 
name.  He  who  has  given  me  this  work  will  give  me  grace  to  do  it.  Blessed 
and  most  merciful  Lord,  hear  me,  and  deliver  me  from  all  vanity,  pride,  and 
self-seeking,  and  all  the  nervous  fear  which  they  occasion  !     Give  me  only 

*  The  following  letter  from  Mr.  Stanley  (now  Dean  Stanley)  to  Principal  Shairp, 
written  after  this  visit,  gives  a  graphic  account  of  the  impressions  he  then  formed: — 

".  .  .  Campbell  was  a  younger,  thinner,  sharper  man  than  I  had  expected  to  see 
— a  thorough  gentleman — very  interesting  evidently,  and  refined  in  thought,  experi- 
ence, and  expression.  But  I  thought  him  almost  too  spiritual,  too  ghostly  ;  the  stars 
shone  through  him  ;  he  would  vanish  at  the  cock-crowing.  A  beautiful  mind  and 
spirit,  but  too  much  insphered  in  its  own  light  to  be  of  muck  use  to  me. 

' '  And  now  for  the  other.  If  Campbell  was  too  much  of  a  ghost,  N  orman  Macleod 
is  undoubtedly  a  man  of  flesh  and  blood.  I  first  heard  the  service  and  sermon.  The 
sermon  was  on  John  xii.  'Except  a  corn  of  wheat,'  &c.  To  a  fastidious  taste  it  might 
have  been  too  oratorical  in  manner  and  matter ;  but  considering  the  audience  and  the 
tremendous  effort,  I  did  not  object  to  it.  I  thought  it  admirable,  truly  evangelical, 
not  a  word  of  untruth — very  moving  in  parts,  full  of  illustrations,  critical  difficulties 
glanced  at  and  avoided  in  the  most  judicious  and  yet  honest  fashion.  In  short,  I  don't 
know  the  man  in  the  Church  of  England  who  could  have  preached  such  a  sermon  ;  nor 
do  I  know  such  a  man  as  I  found  him  to  be  afterwards  in  converse,  first  in  the  vestry 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  afterwards  for  two  hours  here  in  the  evening.  Of  course 
I  have  known  men  of  greater  abilities  and  character,  but  if  he  be  what  he  seems,  I 
know  no  one  who  unites  such  thorough  good  sense,  honesty,  manly  independence, 
with  such  working,  stirring,  devout  energy  and  power  of  appealing  to  the  maps. 
How  gladly,  but  that  he  is  better  where  he  is,  would  I  have  made  him  an  English 
bishop.  We  went  over  many  fields  together,  and  I  am  sincerely  grateful  to  you  for 
having  made  him  known  to  me. 

"I  asked  him  about  the  Free  Kirk  and  the  Covenanters,  and  he  charmed  the  cockles 
of  my  heart  by  his  answer.  'The  Free  Kirk  was  just  an  outburst  of  Presbyterian 
Puseyism.'  '  Laud  and  the  Covenanters  were  just  the  same  men  on  different  sides, 
except  that  what  one  called  'church'  the  other  called  '  kirk,'  and  1  am  heartily  glad 
they  eat  each  other  up.  The  Free  Kirk  are  descendants  of  the  Covenanters ;  they  pride 
themselves  on  being  'the  Church  of  the  past.'  That  is  just  what  they  are,  and  I  make 
them  a  present  of  it  with  all  my  heart. '  " 


18.11—18.30.  243 

faith  in  Thee,  love  to  Thee,  and  nil  will  be  well,  and  Mess  Thy  word  for 
immortal  souls,  and  for  the  good  of  those  to  whom  Thou  hast  given  such 
power  in  the  world  ! 

"  Ocli  ber  8th,  Tuesday. — I  have  just  returned  and  all  my  confidence  in 
Christ  lias  been  vindicated.  I  preached  on  Sabbath,  my  subject  being  faith 
in  a  living,  present,  divine  Saviour,  the  solution  of  difficulties.  Miss  Night- 
ingale was  among  my  audience.  I  was  asked  in  the  evening  to  dine  at  the 
Castle.     The  Prince  spoke  much  to  me. 

"  May  the  Lord  bless  all  this  for  good  !  It  is  my  deepest  and  truest 
prayer,  that  all  may  tend  to  His  glory." 

Extract  from  a  private  Note  Book  for  1856 : — 

"  How  to  spend  the  morning  hour  from  6  to  7  a.m.  A  short  prayer  for 
the  Spirit  of  God,  that  it  may  be  wisely  and  profitably  spent.  Devotional 
reading — Baxter  and  Leighton.  Short  meditation  and  prayer  on  what  is 
read,  with  reference  to  individual  application.  A  psalm  sung  quietly.  The 
Scriptures  read  in  order,  with  thought  and  devotion.     Prayer." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  As  I  opened  my  shutters  this  morning,  the  crescent  moon,  clear  and 
well  defined,  and  with  a  bright  attendant  star,  occupied  the  blue  sky  with 
hardly  a  cloud.  Of  what  use  has  that  moon  been  during  the  past  night ! 
Many  a  pilgrim  has  tracked  his  way  by  her  beams,  and  many  a  mariner  by 
them  has  seen  his  port!  But  the  sun  is  rising,  and  the  moon  must  depart 
like  the  Mosaic  ritual,  and  many  an  old  patriarchal  form  of  truth,  before 
the  rising  of  that  Sun  of  Righteousness  whose  glory  was  all  their  light." 

"  There  are  men  who  no  more  grasp  the  truth  which  they  seem  to  hold, 
than  a  sparrow  grasps  the  message  passing  through  the  electric  wire  on 
which  it  perches." 

"  I  received  the  following  answers  from  two  intending  communicants,  and 
they  illustrate  a  fact  which  has  often  been  impressed  on  me,  respecting  the 
possibility  of  persons  being  regular  in  church  all  their  lives,  and  yet  remain- 
ing ignorant  of  the  simplest  truths. 

"  Who  led  the  children  out  of  Egypt  1     Eve. 

"  Who  was  Eve  1     The  mother  of  God. 

"  What  death  did  Christ  die  1     (After  a  long  time)     Hanged  on  a  tree. 

"  What  did  they  do  with  his  body  1     Laid  it  in  a  manger. 

"  What  did  Christ  do  for  sinners  ]     Gave  his  Son. 

"  Any  wonderful  works  Christ  did  1     Hade  the  world  in  six  days. 

"  Any  others  ]     Buried  Martha,  Mary,  and  Lazarus. 

"  What  became  of  them  afterwards  'I  Angels  took  them  to  Abraham's 
bosom. 

"  What  had  Christ  to  do  with  that  1     LLe  took  Abraham. 

"  Who  was  Christ  1     The  Holy  Spirit. 

"  Are  you  a  sinner  ]     No. 

"  Did  you  never  sin,  and  do  you  love  God  perfectly"?     Yes." 

"  November  Wth,  1856. — Both  sciatica  and  work,  I  fear,  on  the  increase. 

"  I  feel  the  pressure  and  the  pain.     What  am  I  to  do  ? 

"  1.  Keep  my  temper  and  my  peace  in  God,  the  calm  of  my  inner  shrine 
where  He  is,  undisturbed  by  the  noise   of  the  thronging  '  courts  of  the 


244  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

priests,'  '  of  the  people,' '  of  the  women,'  or  'of  the  gentiles' without.  This 
is  my  first  duty.  There  never  can  be  a  good  reason  for  my  losing  inner 
peace  with  God.     God  help  me. 

"  2.  I  must  by  His  grace  attend  to  details,  and  use  right  means  to  attain 
this  end.  1.  Early  rising,  and  methodical  division  of  time.  2.  Acceptance 
of  no  more  work  than  can  be  done  in  consistency  with  my  health  and 
strength.  3.  Cultivating  happy,  cheerful  thoughts  of  life,  having  a  strong 
faith  that  God  is  and  Christ  is,  and  that  the  end  shall  be  glorious  to  eveiy 
■*  soldier'  who  '  endures  hardness,'  in  the  grand  campaign. 

"God  giye  me  grace  to  rise  as  I  used  to  do — at  \  to  6 — for  it  is  always 
hard  to  the  flesh ! 

"  My  father,  Thou  knowest  my  frame  !  Thou  rememberest  I  am  dust. 
Thou  carest  for  me.  I  can  therefore  cast  my  care  on  Thee,  and  so  be  careful 
:for  nothing.  Keep  me  in  Thy  peace.  Let  me  ever  honour  Thee  as  the 
best  of  masters  by  obedience  to  Thy  will  in  all  things,  by  honouring  Thy 
laws  whether  relating  to  body  or  mind,  and  by  doing  all  things  and  accept- 
ing all  things  with  a  calm  spirit.  Thou  knowest  Thy  servant,  and  under- 
standest  his  thoughts.     Help  me  according  to  Thy  word.     Amen. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  fly  to  that  blue  sky,  but  by  the  help  of  God  Almighty 
to  act  a  true  and  brave  part  amidst  the  smoke  and  maid  and  sin  of  Glasgow. 

"  Lord  forgive  me,  if  I  seem  to  think  I  am  enduring  hardness  !  God  have 
mercy  on  me  for  ever  thinking  my  lot  has  a  cloud — a  speck  of  hardness  in 
it.  My  cup  runs  over  with  mercies.  I  am  in  the  lap  of  every  indulgence, 
mm!  if  I  fret,  it  is  as  a  spoiled  child." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

1S57— 1S59. 

IN  1857  lie  began  to  hold  evening  services  for  the  poor,  to  which 
none  were  admitted  except  in  their  everyday  working  clothes. 
The  success  of  a  similar  experiment,  made  many  years  before  in  Lou- 
doun, encouraged  him  to  make  this  attempt  in  Glasgow,  in  the  hope  of 
reaching  some  of  those  who,  from  poverty  or  other  causes,  had  fallen 
away  from  all  church  attendance.  For  the  first  winter,  these  services 
were  held  in  the  Martyrs'  church,  which  was  filled  every  Sabbath 
evening  by  the  very  people  he  wished  to  get ;  the  following  year  they 
were  transferred  to  the  Barony,  where  they  were  continued  till  a  mis- 
sion church  was  built.  It  may  be  safely  asserted  that  this  work  gave 
him  more  interest  than  any  other  he  ever  undertook ;  and  that  he 
never  addressed  any  audience  with  greater  effect  than  that  which  he 
gathered  from  "  the  streets  and  lanes  of  the  city."  The.  pews  were 
filled  with  men  in  their  fustian  jackets  and  with  poor  women,  bare- 
headed, or  with  an  old  shawl  drawn  over  the  head,  and  dressed  most 
of  them  in  short-gown  and  petticoat.  Unkempt  heads,  faces  begrimed 
with  labour,  and  mothers  with  infants  in  their  arms,  gave  a  strange 
character  to  the  scene.  The  police  sometimes  reported  that  several 
well-known  thieves  were  present.  But,  however  large  and  various  the 
audience  might  be,  he  seemed  to  hold  the  key  to  every  heart  and  con- 
science ;  and  so  riveted  was  the  attention  he  secured,  that  not  unfre- 
quently  an  involuntary  exclamation  of  surprise  or  sympathy  would 
pass  from  lip  to  lip  over  the  crowd.  The  following  description  of  one 
of  these  evenings  in  the  Barony  is  taken  from  an  English  newspaper: — 

"  I  found  I  would  not  be  admitted  except  I  was  dressed  as  a  working 
man.  The  uniform  of  a  dragoon  was  offered  and  accepted,  but  on  second 
thoughts  I  preferred  the  cast-off  working-dress  of  a  coach-builder — a  dirty 
coat,  a  dirty  white  flannel  vest,  striped  shirt,  red  cravat,  and  Glengarry 
bonnet.  Thus  attired,  I  stood  waiting  among  the  crowd  of  poor  men  and 
women  that  were  shivering  at  the  gate  biding  the  time.  Many  of  these 
women  were  very  old  and  very  frail.  The  night  being  excessively  cold,  the 
most  of  them  had  the  skirts  of  their  gowns  tucked  over  their  heads.  Not 
a  few  of  them  had  a  deep  asthmatic  wheezel,  most  distressing  to  hear.  Poor 
souls  !  they  were  earnestly  talking  about  the  Doctor  and  his  sayings.  I 
conversed  with  several  working  men  who  had  attended  all  the  series  from 


246  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

the  first,  three  or  four  years  hack.  I  asked  one  man  if  they  were  all  Scotch 
■who  attended  1  He  said,  '  All  nations  go  and  hear  the  Doctor.'  Another 
said,  '  Highland  Scotch  and  Lowland  Scotch,  and  English  and  Irish, — in 
fact,  a'  kind  o'  folks  come  to  the  Doctor  on  Sabbath  nichts.'  <  A  body 
likes  the  Doctor,'  said  another.  One  man,  a  labourer,  I  think,  in  a  foundry, 
said,  '  He  kent  great  lots  o'  folk  that's  been  blessed  by  the  Doctor,  baith 
Scotch  and  Irish.  I  ken  an  Irish  Catholic  that  wrought  wi'  me,  o'  tho 
name  o'  Boyd,  and  he  came  ae  nicht  out  o'  curiosity,  and  he  was  converted 
afore  he  raise  from  his  seat,  and  he's  a  staunch  Protestant  to  this  day,  every 
bit  o'  'im,  though  his  father  and  mother,  and  a'  his  folks,  are  sair  against 
him  for  't.' 

"  On  the  door  being  opened,  a  sudden  rush  took  place  in  that  direction. 
I  found  a  posse  of  elders  stationed  as  a  board  of  inspection,  closely  examin- 
ing old  and  young,  male  and  female,  and  turning  back  all  who  had  any 
signs  of  respectability.     All  hats  and  bonnets  were  excluded.     My  courage 
almost  failed  me,  but  as  I  had  from  boyhood  been  in  the  habit  of  doing 
what  I  could  among  the  poor,  and  being  so  bent  on  ascertaining  the  '  way  ' 
of  the  Doctor  with  that  class,  I  resolved  to  make  the  effort.     My  weakness 
arose  from  the  fear  of  detection  by  any  of  the  elders  I  spoke  to  in  the  fore- 
noon.    Pulling  my  hair  down  over  my  brow,  and,   in  the  most  slovenly 
manner  possible,  wiping  my  nose  with  the  sleeve  of  my  coat,  I  pushed  my 
way  up  to  the  board,  and  '  passed.'     I  found  that  none  of  the  seat  cushions, 
black,  red,  green,  or  blue,  were  removed ;  no,  nor  the  pew  Bibles  or  Psalm 
books,  a  plain  proof  that,  by  the  test  of  several  years,  the  poor  of  the  closes 
and  wynds  could  be  trusted.     The  contrast  between  the  forenoon  and  even- 
ing congregations  in  point  of  appearance  was  very  great  and  striking ;  but 
in  regard  to  order  and  decorum  there  was  no  difference  whatever.     When 
the  time  was  up,  a  little  boy  was  seen  leading  a  blind  man  along  the  aisle 
tov  ards  the  pulpit.     On  the  boy  placing  the  blind  man  in  the  precentor's 
desk,  a  poor  man  sitting  next  tome  nudged  me  on  the  elbow,  and  asked,  '  Is 
that  the  man  that's  to  preech  till  'sV     '  Oh,  no  ! '  said  I.      '  You'll  see  the 
Doctor  immediately.'     '  But  surely,'  says  he,  '  that  canna  be  the  regular 
precentor  1 '     '  Oh,  no  ! '  said  I.     '  This  man,  I  suspect,  is  the  precentor  for 
us  poor  folks.'     Here  the  Doctor — stout,  tall,  and  burly — was  seen  ascend- 
ing the  pulpit  stairs.     He  began  by  prayer.     He  then  gave  out  the  130th 
Psalm  for  praise.     Before  singing,  he  commented  at  great  length  on  the 
character  and  spirit  of  the   Psalm,   dwelling  very  fully  on  the  first  line, 
'  Lord,  from  the  depths  to  thee  I  cried  ! '     Nothing  could  have  been  better 
adapted  for  his  auditory  than  the  Doctor's  consolatory  exposition  of  that 
Psalm.     The  precentor  by  this  time  had  got  very  uneasy,  and  had  several 
times  struck  his  pitchfork,  and  was  ready  to  start,  but  the  Doctor,  being  so 
full,  and  having  still  this,  that,  and  the  other  thing  to  say,   he  could  not 
commence.       At  last,  the  Doctor  looking  kindly  down  upon   him,   said, 
'You'll  rise  now,  Peter,  and  begin.'     He  rose,  and  began.     He,  tracing  the 
lines  with  his  fingers  on  his  ponderous  Psalm  book  of  raised  letters,  '  gave 
out  the  lines,'  two  at  a  time.     It  was  a  most  gratifying  spectacle,  and  said 
much  for  the  advance  of  Christian  civilization.     The  Doctor  next  read  the 
first  chapter  of  the  first  epistle   of  Paul  to  the  Thessalonians.     The  com- 
mentary on  the  chapter  was  most  strikingly  effective  in  point  of  consolatory 
and  practical  application  to  the  condition  of  his  auditory.     In  referring  to 


iSol—  1851).  247 

the  mother  and  grandmother  of  Timothy,  he  made  a  grand  stand  for  char- 
acter, which  made  the  poor  man  next  to  me  strike  the  floor  several  times 
with  his  feet  by  way  of  testifying  his  approbation.  Had  the  Doctor's  re- 
marks on  the  subject  been  delivered  from  a  platform,  they  would  have- 
elicited  thunders  of  applause.  He  said  the  most  valuable  thing  Prince 
Albert  left  was  character.*  He  knew  perfectly  well  that  very  many  very 
poor  people  thought  that  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  have  a  character. 
ft  was  not  true  ;  he  would  not  hear  of  it.  There  was  not  a  man  nor  a 
woman  before  him,  however  poor  they  might  be,  but  had  it  in  their  power, 
by  the  grace  of  God,  to  leave  behind  them  the  grandest  thing  on  earth, 
character ;  and  their  children  may  rise  up  after  them,  and  thank  God  that 
their  mother  was  a  pious  woman,  or  their  father  a  pious  man.  The  text  se- 
lected was  1  Timothy  vi.  12 — 14.  The  discourse  was  very  plain,  explicit, 
pointed,  and  amply  illustrated,  as  by  one  who  knew  all  the  '  outs  and  ins,' 
difficulties  and  trials  of  the  people  before  him,  and  they  listened  with  breath- 
less attention,  and  appeared  to  drink  in  all  he  said,  as  indeed,  '  good  words  ' 
for  them.  Some  of  the  children-in-arms  sometimes  broke  the  silence  by 
their  prattle  or  their  screams,  but  thedoctor,  though  uncommonly  sensitive, 
never  appeared  the  least  put  about." 

The  results  of  these  services  were  remarkable.  Many  hundreds  were 
reclaimed  from  lawless  habits,  some  of  the  more  ignorant  were  educat- 
ed, and  a  large  number  became  communicants.  There  was  a  nobility 
of  character  displayed  by  several  of  these  working-men  which  moved 
him  to  tears  as  he  spoke  of  them,  and  gave  him  a  deeper  love  than  ever 
for  the  poor.  Some  of  them  took  ways  of  showing  their  gratitude,  the 
very  oddity  of  which  gave  touching  evidence  of  the  depth  of  the  feel- 
ing.f 

His  method  of  instruction  was  admirably  adapted  to  the  character 
of  his  audience.  He  was  never  abstract,  but  threw  his  teaching  into 
objective  or  descriptive  form,  and  not  seldom  dramatized  the  lesson  he 
was  enforcing.  His  counsel  was  not  confined  to  things  spiritual,  but 
embraced  such  practical  matters  as  the  sanitary  condition  of  the  houses 
of  the  poor,  healthy  food,  and  the  treatment  of  children,  and  was  given 
so  forcibly  that  the  meanest  intelligence  could  understand  the  rationale 
of  his  advice.  The  unaffected  sympathy  with  the  poor  and  ignorant  in 
all  their  wants  and  difficulties  was  the  secret  of  his  power  over  them 
His  frankness  and  large  human-heartedness  commanded  their  confi- 
dence and  won  their  affection. 

"  March  15,  1857. — I  began,  four  weeks  ago,  my  sermon  to  working-men 
and  women  in  their  working  clothes,  on  my  old  Loudoun  plan,  of  excluding 
all  who  had  clothes  fit  for  church  by  day.    And  by  God's  great  mercy  I  have 

*  This  description  was  written  in  1861. 
1 1  remember  on  a  Sunday  evening  returning  with  him,  after  one  of  these  services, 
to  our  father's  house.  When  the  cab  stopped,  a  rough  hand  was  pushed  in  at  the  win- 
dow. Norman  understood  what  was  meant,  and  on  taking  what  was  offered,  received  a 
warm  grasp  from  some  unknown  working-man,  who  had  come  from  t  lie  Barony  church,  a 
iiile  away,  to  express  by  this  act  more  thankfulness  than  he  could  find  words  to  utter. 


248  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

crammed  the  Martyrs'  Church  with  such.  I  never  experienced  more  joy 
than  in  this  service.     It  is  grand.     I  do  not  envy  Wellington  at  Waterloo. 

"  I  have  just  published  '  Deborah,'  a  book  for  servants.  What  is  written 
with  a  single  eye,  and  seeking  God's  blessing,  must,  I  think,  do  such  good 
as  will  vindicate  the  publication.     We  shall  see. 

"  Sunday,  29. — On  the  Monday  after  the  former  journal  I  was  seized 
with  dreadful  neuralgia  (as  it  was  called).  I  spent  the  night  in  my  study; 
on  the  floor,  sofa,  chair — anywhere  for  rest.  It  left  me  Tuesday,  and, 
then  till  Sunday  I  suffered  several  hours  each  day,  the  only  agony  I  ever 
experienced.  I  spent  another  terrible  night.  Sunday  last  I  was  in  bed. 
Since  then  I  have  been  confined  to  the  house,  but,  thank  God,  feel  able  to 
preach  this  afternoon  and  evening,  though  I  have  been  writing  with  much 
sense  of  weakness  of  body.  Then  scarlet  fever  attacked  my  beloved  boy  on 
Tuesday.  But  oh  !  the  awful  mercy  of  God  to  me,  he  has  had  it  as  yet  most 
gently.  Was  I  sincere  when  I  gave  him  up,  all  up  to  God  last  week  ?  I 
hope  so.  As  far  as  I  know,  I  desire  Jesus  to  choose  for  me;  and,  as  far  as 
I  know,  there  is  nothing  could  make  me  alter  that  calm  resolution  ;  but,  as  far 
as  I  know,  there  isalso  no  manwhosetiesh  winces  more  under  fear  of  affliction, 
or  who  would  more  require  the  mighty  power  of  God  to  keep  him  from 
open  rebellion.  Amidst  all  confusion,  darkness,  doubts,  fears,  there  is  ever 
one  light,  one  life,  one  all — Jesus,  the  living  personal  Saviour !" 

With  the  desire  of  promoting  increased  life  in  the  Church,  he  wrote 
a  series  of  articles  in  the  Edinburgh  Christian  Magazine,  in  which  he 
pi*,posed  the  formation  of  a  Church  Union  for  the  purpose  of  discuss- 
ing questions  connected  with  practical  work,  and  for  earnest  prayer 
for  the  outpouring  of  God's  Spirit.  He  believed  that  there  were  many 
ministers  and  laymen  who  were  mourning  in  secret  over  faults  in  the 
Church  which  were  a  continual  burden  to  his  own  soul;  and  that  the 
oest  results  might  be  expected  if  such  men  were  only  brought  together 
for  conference  and  prayer.  The  state  of  the  Church  seemed  to  call  for 
some  such  movement.  "What  most  alarms  me  is  that  we  are  not 
alarmed.  What  most  pains  me  is  that  we  are  not  pained."  "  Whether 
we  are  the  Church  of  the  past,  or  the  true  representatives  of  the  Second 
Beformation,  or  any  other  reformation,  is  to  us  a  question  of  compara- 
tively little  importance;  but  it  is  of  infinite  importance  that  we  be  the 
Church  of  the  present,  and  thereby  become  the  Church  of  the  future. 
Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead,  but  let  us  follow  Christ  and  be  fellow- 
labourers  with  him  in  this  world." 

After  several  preliminary  meetings,  the  Union  was  formed,  but  it 
existed  only  two  years,  and  the  only  memorial  of  it  now  remaining  ia 
*o  be  found  ii  the  missionary  breakfast,  which  is  held  during  every 
General  Assembly. 


From  his  Journal  : — 


"  The  second  meeting  of  the  Union  is  to-morrow.  I  have  prayed  often 
that  out  of  that  weakness  God  may  ordain  strength,  to  aid  my  dear  but  sore 
wounded  and  suffering  Church ;  but,  best  of  all,  to  help  His  Church,  by 


saving  souls  and  unitin™  saints. 


1857—1859.  24!) 

"April  11,  12  p.m. — Sunday  last  I  finished  my  winter's  course  in  the 
Martyrs'  Church,  and  invited  all  who  wished  to  partake  of  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per to  intimate  their  wishes  to  mo  on  Tuesday  in  the  vestry.  On  Tuesday 
evening  seventy-six  came  for  communion  !  Of  these  forty-seven  had  never 
communicated  before.  Fifty-two  were  females  ;  twenty-five  males.  I  never 
saw  such  a  sight,  nor  experienced  such  unmixed  joy,  for  all  had  come  be- 
cause blessed  through  the  Word,  and  a  great  majority  seemed  to  me  to  have 
been  truly  converted.  Bless  the  Lord  !  To-morrow,  please  God,  I  shall 
give  them  the  Communion  in  their  working  clothes  at  five  in  the  church. 

"  I  am  persuaded  that  to  succeed  in  doing  permanent  good  to  such  it  is 
necessary  (1)  To  preach  regularly  and  systematically  (with  heart,  soul,  and 
strength,  though!).  (2)  To  exclude  well-dressed  people.  (3)  To  keep  out 
of  newspapers  and  off  platforms,  and  avoid  fuss.  (4)  To  develop  self- 
reliance.  (5)  To  give  Communion  on  creditable  profession,  as  the  apostles 
admitted  to  the  Church,  and  then  to  gather  up  results,  and  bring  the  con- 
verts into  a  society.  (6)  To  follow  up  by  visitation,  stimulating  themselves 
to  collect  for  clothes. 

"  Tuesday,  13th. — What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  all  His  benefits? 

"  Sabbath  was  a  day  of  peace  and  joy,  and  my  sermon  on  '  God  forbid 
that  I  should  glory,  &c,'  preached  in  great  peace  by  me — and  I  believe  found 
most  profitable  by  my  dear  people.  How  could  I  convey  to  any  other  the 
profound  and  undying  conviction  I  have  of  God  being  verily  a  hearer  of 
prayer  and  a  personal  God1?  Whatever  arguments  were  capable  of  shaking 
my  faith  in  this,  would  shake  my  faith  in  God.  1  gave  the  Communion  to 
sixty-seven  working  people  in  their  working  clothes.  Having  kept  my  in- 
tention secret,  as  I  was  terrified  for  fuss  and  a  spectacle,  none  were  present 
but  the  elders.  I  went  through  the  regular  service,  occupying  about  seventy 
minutes.  The  whole  scene  was  very  solemn,  very  touching.  I  believe  all 
were  sincere. 

"  But  now  comes  the  great  work  of  training  them  to  habits  of  self-reliance 
and  self-denial.  I  shall  watch  and  labour,  and  before  God  shall  tell  the 
truth  of  my  results.  Failure  may  teach  us  as  well  as  success.  If  I  fail,  then 
I  will  set  a  buoy  on  my  wreck  to  warn  others  from  the  rock,  but  not  from 
the  harbour.     My  new  elders  were  with  me — God  bless  them  ! 

"  Last  evening  all  was  ended  with  a  prayer-meeting  of  the  Union,  I  in 
the  chair.  My  good  and  valued  friends,  William  Robertson  and  Smith 
of  Lauder,  with  me,  also  dear  James  Campbell. 

"  Then  prayer  and  thanksgiving  alone  with  my  beloved  wife  for  the  end 
of  these  five  weeks  since  the  night  I  sprang  up  in  agony  and  spent  a  night 
of  great  pain  in  this  room — my  study  J 

"  May. — I  go  to  London  this  evening  to  speak  for  Tract  Society.  I 
preach  twice  for  Herschell.  On  Monday,  for  the  London  Missionar}' 
Society  ;  then  home,  dear  home  !  And  now,  Father,  I  go  forth  again  in 
Thy  name,  and  desire  to  be  kept  true,  humble,  and  unselfish  :  seeking  Thy 
glory  and  Thy  favour,  which  verily  is  life  !      Amen,  and  Amen. 

"May  17. — I  have  returned,  and  give  thanks  to  God!  I  spoke  on 
Friday  evening — very  lamely  indeed — for  I  was  made  so  uncomfortable  by 

a  narrow  and  vulgar  attack  by on ;  and  then  by  as  narrow  and 

more  vulgar  attack  by on  modern  novels.     I  had  to  stick  up  for  Jack  the 

Giant  Killer.  I  think  I  shall  never  enter  Exeter  Hall  again  on  such  oc- 
casions.    The  atmosphere  is  too  muggy  tor  my  lungs." 


250  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

The  year  1857  was  notable  in  his  own  spiritual  history.  He  was 
attacked  by  an  illness  which  for  a  time  gave  his  medical  advisers  con- 
siderable anxiety,  and  was  attended  with  such  pain,  that  he  had  fre- 
quently tu  pass  the  greater  part  of  the  night  in  his  chair ;  yet,  during 
the  day,  when  the  suffering  had  abated,  he  was  generally  at  his  port 
of  labour  in  the  parish.  For  a  while  he  took  the  worst  view  of  his  own 
case,  but  anticipated  its  issue  with  calmness.  An  autumn  tour,  how- 
ever, in  Switzerland,  in  which  he  was  accompanied  by  his  wife,  and  by 
his  valued  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  J.  A.  Campbell,  in  a  great  measure  re- 
stored him.  But,  shortly  after  his  return,  Mrs.  Macleod  was  laid 
prostrate  by  typhoid  fever,  which  rendered  her  delirious  for  several 
weeks,  and  reduced  her  to  so  critical  a  condition  that  on  several  oc- 
casions her  life  was  despaired  of.  He  recognized  the  solemn  teaching 
which  these  days  of  terrible  suspense  contained,  and  his  journals  re- 
cord the  mental  agony  he  passed  through,  as  he  tried  to  render  willing 
obedience  to  his  Father's  wilL  It  seemed  a  period  when  all  the  les- 
sons of  his  past  life — all  his  own  sermons  and  teaching  to  others — all 
he  had  knownof  God  and  of  the  nature  ofChristian  lifeas  alife  of  Sonship 
— were  gathered  into  one  decisive  question  for  his  own  soul.  He 
literally  wrestled  in  prayer,  and  fought  inch  by  inch  against  self-will, 
until  he  was  able  to  say,  in  peaceful  submission,  "  Thy  will  be  done." 
The  effects  of  this  time  were  immediate  and  enduring.  He  lived 
henceforth  more  entirely  for  God,  and  became  much  more  tender, 
considerate,  and  patient  towards  others  than  he  had  ever  been.  There 
was  no  lessening  of  the  old  joyousness  and  genial  humour  ;  but  he 
seemed  to  care  less  for  the  opinions  of  men,  and  looked  more  than 
ever  to  God  alone. 

It  may  now  appear  that  the  experience  of  this  epoch  in  his  life  was 
as  opportune  as  it  was  powerful.  It  came  when  he  was  about  to 
enter  a  wider  sphere  of  influence  than  he  had  hitherto  occupied, 
and  to  encounter  greater  difficulties  than  those  with  which  his 
past  career  had  made  him  familiar.  It  was  well,  therefore,  that  his 
character  should  have  been  fortified,  as  it  was  at  this  period,  to  with- 
stand tiie  shock  of  conflicting  opinions  ;  and  that,  having  been  thrown 
so  completely  on  God,  he  was  able  henceforth  to  be  freer  than  ever  of 
the  influence  of  parties  and  their  leaders. 

"  June  4. — For  some  days  I  have  felt  pain,  and  feared  the  return  of  my 
complaint.  I  have  seen  Dr.  Laurie.  I  know  it  to  be  very  serious,  and  I 
feel  now  how  this  may  be  the  beginning  of  the  end. 

"  Yet  how  awing  is  the  thought  of  the  gift  of  life  being  rendered  up ! 
The  opportunities  of  receiving  and  doing  good  here  gone  for  ever ;  pain  to 
be  encountered,  and  then  the  great  secret  revealed !  But  every  question  is 
stilled,  every  doubt  answered,  all  good  secured,  iu  and  through  faith  in  the 
name  of  the  Father,  Son  (Brother),  and  Comforter  ! 

"  Oh,  God,  enable  me  to  be  brave,  unselfish,  cheerful,  patient,  because 
trusting  Thee  ! 

"  Evening.— I  feel  a  crisis  in  my  illness  is  passed.     O   my  God,   let  not 


1857— 1S59.  251 

w^o  snch  clays  of  thought  be  lost  to  me,  as  (Lose  occasioned  last  month  by 
tny  mistaken  fears  about  myself." 

To  J.  G.  Hamilton  Esq.  :— 

'■'CraigieBurn,  Moffat,  July  7th. 

"  Here  I  am,  like  a  blackbird  reposing  in  my  nest  in  a  green  wood,  beside 
a  burn,  surrounded  by  pastoral  hills,  musical  with  bleating  sheep  and 
shadowy  with  clouds.  My  chicks  all  about  me,  some  chirping,  some  sing- 
ing, all  gaping  for  food,  with  my  lady  blackbird  perched  beside  me,  her 
glossy  plumage  glittering  in  the  sun,  a  perfect  sermon  on  contentment. 

"  Blackbirds  put  me  in  mind  of  bills,  and  bills  of  money,  and  money  of 
those  who  need  it,  and  then  of  those  who  are  willing  to  give  it,  and  that 
brings  me  to  you.  It  is  not  for  schools,  churches  or  schemes,  but  for  charity, 
to  help  a  needy  gentlewoman 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  my  complaint  has  not  left  me.  I  had  a  learned 
consultation  in  London  with  the  great  authority  in  such  cases.  He  has 
put  me  on  a  regimen  so  strict  that  it  would  make  a  hermit's  cell  almost  com- 
fortable ;  and  he  commands  rest.  But  this  I  cannot  command  for  a  month 
yet." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  December. — I  am  alone,  with  nothing  to  occupy  me  but  my  own 
thoughts,  and  come  what  may,  perhaps  it  may  help  on  God's  work  in  my 
soul  if  I  try  to  express  even  in  a  very  inadequate  and  crude  way  the  solemn 
crisis  through  which  I  am  now  passing. 

"  Wednesday  night  my  beloved  one  became  so  alarmingly  ill  that  I  lost 
all  hope.  The  night  was  a  memorable  one  to  me.  It  was  one  of  those  awful 
soul  struggles  between  life  in  God  and  the  creature,  which  seem  to  com- 
press the  history  of  years  into  minutes.  The  only  thing  that  gave  me  light 
was  the  one  thought  of  doing  God's  will,  and  it  did  seem  to  me  right,  beau- 
tiful, good,  that  it  should  be  done  any  way.  I  was  able  to  look  up  to  my 
Father  and  say,  '  Thy  will,  not  mine.'  But  oh !  oh  !  the  struggle  now  !  To 
be  willing  in  truth,  to  bury  my  life  out  of  sight,  how  hard !  To  have  my 
true  life  in  God  alone — impossible  !  I  am  supported,  I  think  (dear  God, 
pity  me  !)  I  can  say,  '  Thy  will,  not  mine  !'  But  to  do  this  truly  ;  to  do  it 
always  ;  to  do  it  in  all  things  ;  to  hang  loose  from  life  to  all  but  Thee  !  O 
my  Father,  help  me,  teach  me,  for  I  desire  faith  and  patience  to  have 
their  perfect  work.  I  desire  to  be  made  Thine  wholly,  and  to  learn 
obedience  and  meekness  as  a  son  ;  but  O  God,  my  Father  uphold  me 
under  Thy  loving,  but  sore  and  necessary  dealing.  If  she  is  taken  away  ! 
If  she  is  spared  !  '  Lord,  into  Thy  hand  I  commit  my  spirit,'  as  unto  a 
faithful  Creator.     Glorify  Thy  name  ! 

"  My  Father,  I  lie  at  Thy  feet,  and  desire  to  be  led  as  a  child,  and  to  fol- 
low Jesus — to  die  with  Him.  Yet  lead  me  not  into  deeper  trial  lest  I 
perish.  Yet,  Amen — Amen — I  trust  in  Thee  !  In  the  depths,  in  dark- 
ness, I  trust  in  Thee.  God  forgive  my  fears ;  Thou  rememberest  I  am 
dust." 

To  his  Sister  Jane  :—  "  2.2nd November. 

"  The  nervous,  distracted  outward  man  is  one,  and  the  inner  rest  in  God 


252  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

belongs  to  another  being.  They  both  sadly  cross.  But  my  faith  is  noi 
shaken  in  Him.     May  it  be  found  to  His  glory  at  His  appearing. 

"  This  a  quiet,  peaceful  day.  Without — wind,  rain,  mist.  Within — 
peace. 

"All  that  man  can  do  for  her  is  done.  She  is  watched  every  hour,  and 
I  am  told  there  is  hope,  and  that  it  is  a  mere  question  of  time.  Can  the 
vessel  weather  the  Ions?  storm  1 

"  The  mental  history  of  this  time  to  me  is  unparalleled.  First  the  awful 
nervousness ;  then  the  soul  battle,  then  the  peace ;  the  doubts,  fears, 
agonies  !  and  this  day  peace — perfect  peace." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Beloved  John  Campbell  and  Dr.  Macduff  have  been  a  great  strength 
and  stay. 

"It  is  hard  to  describe  my  feelings.  I  now  hope,  yet  fear  least  for  one 
moment  I  should  be  kept  off  the  one  life,  the  living  God  !  I  have  resigned 
her  into  His  hands.  1  know  he  will  pi-epare  me,  for  I  desire  first  (as  far  as 
I  know)  that  His  kingdom  shall  come  in  me  and  by  me.  Then,  on  the 
other  hand,  should  she  be  given  tack  !  A  solemn  battle  has  then  to  be 
fought  whether  or  not  I  shall  attempt  to  rebuild  my  house  or  die  daily.  I 
feel  that  God's  grace  will  be  required  just  as  much  for  me  if  the  precious 
gift  is  restored  as  if  taken  away. 

"  Lord,  undertake  for  us.  Thou  seest  our  strength  is  gone.  We  lean  on 
Thee,  mighty  and  merciful  one." 

To  his  Sister  Jane  : — 

"  Saturday  night  and  Sunday  morning  was  my  third  burial  of  her.  I 
gave  her  up  again,  and  the  third  was  more  than  the  first.  God  alone  knows 
what  such  a  night  is.  Yet  His  grace  has  been  more  than  sufficient,  and  I 
hope  I  have  been  taught  what  years  have  failed  to  do. 

"  You  see,  dear,  what  a  trying  time  it  is,  and  you  cannot  wonder  if  the 
tension  of  the  brain  should  make  mine  very  hot  at  times. 

"  Everything  is  confusion — night  and  day  mingled." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Thursday. — All  going  on  well. 

"  I  hardly  know  what  I  think.  The  apparent  actual  return  to  health 
does  not  at  all  affect  me  as  its  hopes  did,  for  these  quite  convulsed  me, 
while  the  reality  only  affects  me  by  producing  a  sense  of  deep  calm  and 
thanksgiving. 

"  Certainly  this  has  been  without  comparison  the  most  solemn  period  of 
my  life.  Never  have  I  so  realised  sorrow.  I  am  anxious  to  gather  up  the 
fragments  in  any  manner,  however  confused.  I  should  like,  if  possible,  to 
meet  and  sympathize  with  God  in  His  teaching,  lest  it  be  lost — to  under- 
stand what  the  will  of  the  Lord  is,  and  what  is  His  loving  kindness. 

"  God  was  teaching  me  (1)  where  my  true  life  ought  to  be — in  Him,  and 
in  Him  only.  (2)  The  sufficiency  of  His  grace,  to  support  and  give  peace 
in  the  most  trying  hour.  (3)  How  beautiful  His  will  is — how  right  it 
is  that  His  glory  should  be  the  grand  end  of  creation,  and  the  sole  ambition 


L857— 1859.  253 

of  the  spirit  of  man.      (4)    How  I  deserved  to  be,  m>1  chastised,  but  punish 
cd  for  sin  ;  and  how  hard   it  was  for  one  who  trusted  in    'riches'  to  entei 

into  the  kingdom,  or  to  soil  all  and  follow  Him  ! 

"  But  my  comforting  thoughts  were — 

"(1)  God's  glory.  What  was  right  and  beautiful  in  His  sight  was  often 
very  consoling.  (2)  That  Jesus  was  in  the  house,  and  saw  all,  planned  all, 
and  would  do  all  most  tenderly,  lovingly,  and  wisely.  (3)  That  there  was 
no  depth  to  which  He  had  not  descended.  If  I  made  my  bed  in  hell,  lie 
was  there.  I  was  much  touched  by  the  22nd  Psalm,  in  which,  after  utter- 
ing His  own  deep  sorrow  ('  My  God,'  &c.)  and  recounting  how  our  fathers 
had  trusted  God,  he  says,  '  But  I  am  a  worm,  and  no  man !'  Think  of 
that !  As  if  His  case  was  too  desperate.  (4)  That  patience  must  have  her 
perfect  work,  and  that  faith  must  be  tried  and  found  precious.  (5)  That 
God  wished  me  as  a  child  to  open  my  whole  heart  and  tell  Him  everything. 
When  David  was  told  by  Nathan  that  his  child  should  die,  he  still  prayed 
to  God  for  its  recovery.  '  I  doubt  not,'  says  Hall  so  beautifully,  '  God  His 
Father  took  it  kindly.'  (6)  That  God  was  feeling  keenly  for  me,  even 
when  afflicting  me.  As  I  heard  of  a  father  who  used  to  suffer  agony  in 
dressing  the  wounds  of  his  child ;  yet  his  love  alone  enabled  him  to  do  it, 
while  putting  her  to  so  much  pain. 

"  I  have  met  extraordinary  and  wondrous  sympathy ;  it  utterly  amazes 
me,  and  has  given  me  a  new  and  most  touching  view  of  my  neighbour. 
Hundreds  called  to  read  the  daily  bulletin  which  I  was  obliged  to  put  up. 
But  everywhere  it  was  the  same.  Free-Church  people  and  people  of  all 
Churches  called ;  men  I  never  spoke  to  stopped  me  ;  cab-drivers,  bus-drivers, 
working-men  in  the  streets  asked  after  her  with  such  feeling.  I  have 
heard  of  ministers  in  Edinburgh  praying  in  public  for  us.  I  pray  God  this 
may  be  a  lesson  for  life  to  make  me  most  tender,  meek,  kind,  and  charitable 
to  all  men.  O  God,  keep  my  heart  soft  toward  my  brethren  of  mankind.  I 
never  could  have  believed  in  such  unselfishness.  And  so  I  have  felt  its 
good,  for  my  heart  warms  to  all  good  men  more  than  ever,  and  niore  deeply 
do  I  hate  and  loathe  sectarianism. 

"  I  have  had  inexpressibly  solemn  teaching  from  my  own  sermons.  How 
solemnly  have  they  preached  to  me !  Such  as  the  first,  on  ;  Baising  of 
Lazarus,'*  and  my  article  written,  without  thought  of  this  sorrow,  for  the 
December  number  of  the  Christian  Magazine.  O  my  Father,  I  desire  to 
learn  to  speak  with  deep  awe  and  modesty,  as  one  to  whom  Thou  mayest 
address  his  own  words. 

"  The  difference  between  preaching  and  knowing  by  experience  in  afflic- 
tion, is  as  great  as  between  being  a  soldier  in  peace  and  fighting  at  reviews, 
and  a  soldier  in  war  and  actual  battle. 

"  How  awful  the  trial  is  of  even  the  hope  of  returning  '  prosperity.'  It  is 
not — Oh  no  ! — as  if  my  Father  grudged  to  make  me  happy,  or  as  if  affliction 
was  His  rule,  and  not  His  strange  work ;  but  I  know  that  in  His  love  He 
has  been  designing  good  for  me — life,  and  life  more  abundantly  ;  that  to 
produce  this  He  has  sent  sorrow ;  that  His  purpose  has  not  been  hid  from 
me,  but  that  I  have  seen  it  and  approved  of  its  righteousness  ;  and  that  in 
answer  to  prayers,  many  and  fervent,  from  His  people,  who  desired  first 
that  He  should  be  glorified,  He  has  been  pleased  to  remove  (in  hope  as  yet) 

'Afterwards  published  under  the  title,  "  The  Mystery  of  Sorrow,"  in  "  Tarish  Papers." 


254  LIFE   OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

this  great  sorrow.  I  feel  it  will  be  a  terrible  loss,  an  abuse  of  God's  grace, 
a  receiving  of  it  in  affliction  in  vain,  unless  my  life  is  rebaptized,  our 
relationship  far  more  inner  and  spiritual,  and  our  walk  more  in  the  light  of 
heaven.  I  have  been  called  to  a  higher,  purer,  nobler  life.  I  have  had 
three  burials  of  her,  and  on  each  occasion  Jesus  seemed  to  say,  '  Lovest 
thou  me  more  than  her  f  and  thrice  he  has  given  her  back,  but  with  the 
awful  reservation,  'Follow  thou  me,'  'Feed  my  sheep.'  And  now  1  feel 
God's  grace  is  required  for  each  day  ;  for  what  should  my  future  life  be  1 
not  an  occasional  funeral,  but  a  daily  dying ! 

"  O  God  omnipotent !  let  Thy  strength  be  perfected  in  my  weakness." 
"  Friday.  — I  am  still  full  of  anxiety,  and  feel  the  rod  yet  on  me.  Father, 
let  patience  have  her  perfect  work,  and  prepare  me  to  meet  as  a  child  all 
the  changes  of  Thy  providence.     Remember  I  am  dust,  and  help  me  accord- 
ing to  the  riches  of  Thy  grace  ! 

"  The  same.  My  hope  is  in  Thee — in  Thee  only.  God  sustain.  Under- 
take for  me,  my  Father  ! 

#  *  #  *  #  * 

"  The  Doctor  has  just  left  me,  and  he  says,  '  Well,  I  think  all  is  safe.' 
This  I  have  been  hoping  for  during  the  last  week.  With  what  feeling  do  I 
receive  the  news  1 

"  What  means  this?  I  have  never  shed  a  tear  of  joy.  I  who  was  wrung 
with  grief,  and  could  not,  in  prospect,  bear  the  light  of  deliverance — who 
was  crushed  by  the  bare  idea,  '  maybe  she  will  yet  get  better  !'  Yet  I  have 
never  felt  a  throb,  or  the  least  of  that  excitement  or  tumult  or  leap  of  the 
heart  which  would  seem  so  natural.  Wherefore  1  I  really  know  not.  Is 
it  the  bod}r,  and  collapse  from  over  excitement]  The  Lord  knoweth !  But 
I  shall  not  work  myself  up  to  an  outward  form  of  what  might  seem  to  be 
the  right  thing,  but  seek  to  be  led  by  God  into  that  state  of  spirit  which  is 
becoming  in  His  sight.     I  feel  as  in  a  dream. 

"  Monday,  2lst. — This  day  Sir  George  Grey  informs  me  I  am  made  a 
Chaplain  to  the  Queen." 

To  Mr.  Waddell  (a  Member  of  the  Session,  on  the  death  of  his  eldest  child) : — 

''Saturday,  12th  Dec,  1S57. 

"  I  most  deepty  feel  with  you,  my  afflicted  brother.  God  will  enable  you 
by-and-by,  if  not  in  the  first  darkness  of  the  affliction,  to  know  that  it  is  a 
Father  who  sends  the  trial ;  and  from  your  own  tender  love  to  your  child 
you  can  in  some  degree  realise  the  deep  mystery  of  a  Father's  love  to  your- 
selves, and  in  your  own  hearts  see  a  dim  reflection  of  that  love  which  pass- 
eth  all  understanding.  You  will  remember,  too,  with  new  feelings,  how 
His  own  well-beloved  Son  was  a  man  of  sorrows,  how,  (see  the  22nd  Psalm) 
there  was  no  depth  but  He  Himself  was  in  a  lower ;  how  He  is  thus  able  to 
carry  our  burdens,  understand  us,  feel  for  us  and  with  us  as  a  brother. 
You  will  be  taught  also  how  God  is  seeking  our  whole  hearts,  and  will  put 
us  to  pain  even  at  the  moment  of  our  greatest  earthly  happiness,  just  because 
it  is  then  we  are  most  apt  to  forsake  Him  as  our  eternal  life,  and  to  seek 
life  in  the  creature  !  Nay,  He  will  teach  you  to  see  how  deep  and  true  that 
.  love  is  which  will  give  pain  to  those  dearly  loved  in  order  that  they  shall 
not  lose  a  full  blessing,  but  see  life  more  abundantly. 

"  I  feel  assured  that  God  is  dealing  towards  you  in  great  love,  though  it 


1857—1859.  255 

is  hard  to  see  it  at  first,  and  most  trying  to  flesh  and  blood  to  say  Amen  to 
this  discipline  by  the  cross.  But  do  not  go  away  sorrowful  from  Him! 
Hold  fast  your  confidence.  His  purpose  is  mercy,  and  good.  Seek  first  of 
all,  that  IJis  will  should  be  done  in  you,  His  purpose  of  good  be  realised  by 
you.  Your  child  is  certainly  with  One  who  is  more  gentle,  tender,  and 
loving  than  a  mother — One  who  was  a  child,  who  knows  a  child's  heart, 
who  was  in  a  mother's  arms.  Your  babe  will  be  trained  up  in  a  glorious 
school ;  when  you  meet  she  will  be  a  fit  companion  for  you,  and  rejoice  with 
you  for  ever. 

"  1  have  myself  during  these  four  weeks  endured  the  greatest  sorrow  I 
ever  experienced  in  life.  I  twice  gave  up  my  beloved  wife  to  the  Lord.  I 
can  witness  to  you  of  the  power  of  God's  grace  to  give  peace  in  the  darkest 
hour,  and  of  how  affliction  is  indeed  sent  for  our  '  profit,'  that  we  might  be 
partakers  of  His  holiness." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  March  15,  1858. — It  is  this  day  twenty  years  ago  that  I  was  ordained 
minister  of  Loudoun  !  I  bless  God  for  calling  me  to  the  ministry  as  He  did 
my  father  and  grandfather  before  me,  and  for  giving  me  a  place  in  my 
nation's  Church.  Donald  is  to  be  ordained  on  Thursday,  and  I  introduce 
him  on  Sunday." 

To  the  Rev.  W.  F.  Stevenson  (on  his  recovery  from  fever)  : — 

"March  24t7i,  1858. 

"  I  do  not  know  from  experience  what  a  man's  feelings  are  when  coming 
©ut  of  such  a  death  in  life  as  you  have  passed  through,  but  from  what  I 
personally  know  of  sorrow,  or  escapes  from  danger,  there  is  little  of  that  joy 
or  excitement  of  any  kind  which  most  people  picture  to  themselves.  I  have 
always  felt  my  nervous  system  exhausted,  my  feelings  listless,  my  intellect 
dull,  and  my  moral  being  shut  up  to  a  quiet  thankfulness,  a  simple  leaning 
on  Christ,  with  little  more  in  my  mind  than  that  I  was  nothing  and  He  was 
all,  and  no  stronger  desire  than  henceforth  to  be  kept  by  Him  and  in  Him. 
Everything  about  our  Ich-heit  is  so  base,  earthy,  mean.  He  must  be  all  in 
all.  Yet  how  difficult  and  perplexing  a  thing  to  the  vain,  proud,  self-willed 
man  is  the  simplicity  which  is  in  Christ !" 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  April  5. — On  Sunday  night  I  finished  my  second  winter's  course  of 
sermons  to  the  working  classes.  The  church  was  full.  I  preached  about  an 
hour  and  a-half  to  them.  Yet  though  I  had  preached  twice  during  the  day, 
I  felt  as  if  I  could  have  gone  on  till  midnight.  There  is  something  over- 
poweringly  interesting  in  seeing  fourteen  hundred  people  in  their  poor 
clothes  drinking  in  the  word !  I  never  preach  as  I  do  to  them.  I  feel 
what  it  is  to  be  an  evangelist. 

"  Last  night  I  had  a  meeting  of  my  old  communicants,  and  a  very 
delightful  one  it  was. 

"  I  admitted  a  year  ago  sixty-nine  to  the  communion  for  the  first  time. 
These  sat  down  at  a  separate  service,  in  their  working  clothes.  At  the  next 
communion  upwards  of  twenty  had  got  clothes,  and  joined  other  churches, 


256  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

as  I  had  no  sittings  for  tliem.  A  large  number,  about  twenty,  I  think,  sat 
clown  in  their  working  clothes.  At  my  ordinary  communion  others  had  got 
good  clothes.  Now  I  find  that,  with  the  exception  of  nine,  all  are  attending 
church,  fit  to  join  at  the  ordinary  communion.  These  nine  are  too  much  in 
difficulty  from  want  of  work  to  get  good  clothes  }^et.  They  will  sit  down  in 
their  working  clothes.  I  have  steadfastly  kept  aloof  from  giving  clothes, 
lest  it  should  be  looked  on  as  a  bribe  and  injure  themselves  and  others. 
See  the  result ! 

"  I  am  now  collecting  for  my  Mission  Church  at  Kelvinhaugh,  aricTCod 
is  greatly  blessing  me  in  it." 

He  was  made  deeply  thankful  by  receiving  from  the  working-men 
themselves,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  such  testimonies  as  the  follow- 
ing to  the  benefit  they  had  derived  from  his  teaching : — 

"  .  .  .  .  "We  thank  God  for  having  led  yo\\  in  the  midst  of  your 
multifarious  and  onerous  duties  to  think  of  us,  and  we  thank  you  for  having 
been  the  willing  instrument  in  His  hand  of  first  rousing  us  from  our  indif- 
ference, and  leading  us  to  take  a  manly  and  straightforward  view  of  our 
condition.  Though  the  novelty  which  at  first  attached  to  these  meetings 
has  passed  away,  some  of  us  know  that  their  influence  for  good  has  been 
most  enduring.     .  .     Not  content  with  bringing  us,  as  it  were,  to  the 

entrance  of  the  Saviour's  Church  and  leaving  us  to  go  in  or  return  as  we 
pleased,  you  have  led  us  into  the  great  congregation  of  His  saints  on  earth, 
and  have  invited  us  to  take  our  places  among  our  fellow-believers  at  the 
Lord's  table,  so  that  we  might  enjoy  similar  privileges  with  them.  Those 
of  us  who  have  accepted  this  invitation  have  nothing  of  this  world's  goods  t© 
offer  you  in  return,  but  we  shall  retain  a  life-long  gratitude  for  your  kind- 
ness— a  gratitude  which  shall  be  continued  when  we  shall  meet  in  thak 
eternal  world  which  lies  beyond  the  grave.  .  .  .  We  beg  you  will 
accept  of  these  expressions  of  gratitude  in  place  of  '  the  silver  and  gold'  of 
which  '  we  have  none,'  and  we  subscribe  ourselves,  with  much  regard, 

"  The  Woeking-Men." 

A  working-man,  who  signs  his  own  name  "  on  behalf  of  a  number 
of  others,"  writes — 

l<  We  are  not  aware  whether  you  know  of  any  case  in  which  your  labours 
have  been  successful  in  arousing  the  careless,  and  in  effecting  reformation  in 
character  and  disposition ;  if  not,  we  can  assure  you  that  such  instances  are 
not  rare,  as  even  in  our  own  neighbourhood  many  have  been  brought, 
through  your  instrumentality  under  God,  to  bethink  themselves  and  mend 
their  ways." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  April  30. — The  University  of  Glasgow  has  this  day  conferred  the 
honour  on  me  of  the  degree  of  D.D.  How  sad  it  makes  me  !  I  ft  el  as  if 
they  had  stamped  me  with  old  age,  and  that  it  was  a  great  cataract  in  the* 
streau  leading  more  rapidly  to  '  the  unfathomable  gulf  where  all  is  stilL' 
And  it  is  so.     I  have  at  best  but  a  short  time  for  work.     O  my  God,  brace 


1857— 1859.  257 

every  ncwe  of  my  soul  by  Thy  mighty  Spirit  that  I  may  glorify  Thee  on 
earth,  and  as  a  faithful  servant  redeem  the  time  and  finish  the  work  which 
Thou  hast  given  me  to  do  !" 

To  the  Ucv.  J.  E.  Cum mino  :— 

"2nd  June,  1858. 

"  x  have  not  myself  found  travelling  congenial  to  much  inner  work.  The 
outer  world  of  persons  and  tilings  I  always  relished  so  intensely  that  I 
required  an  extra  effort  to  keep  to  quiet  reading  and  prayer.  One  possesses 
such  an  '  abundance  of  things,'  that  they  are  apt  to  become  '  the  life'  for  the 
time.  But  I  doubt  not  that  the  sobriety  of  weak  health  may  act  as  a 
counterpoise,  keeping  the  soul  in  hourly  remembrance  of  its  true  and  abiding 
life.  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  find  a  blessing  in  going  thus  to  'rest  awhile.' 
It  is  good  to  be  made  to  feel  how  God's  work  can  go  on  without  us,  and  to 
be  able  to  review  from  without  our  past  work,  and  to  be  more  cast  on  God 
Himself,  and  thus  be  more  emptied  of  our  own  vain  selves. 

"  When  we  are  weak,  then  are  we  strong.  The  least  are  the  greatest.  I 
pray  you  may  every  day  be  drawn  nearer  Christ,  and  return  to  us  stronger 
in  body  and  soul." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  June  3,  again  ! — I  am  now  forty-six,  and  the  future  uncertain  !  And 
so  this  life  of  mine,  which  seems  to  me  about  to  begin,  is  fast  ending!  I 
declare  it  makes  the  perspiration  break  out  on  my  brow.  Oh,  cursed  idle-, 
ness,  desultory  study,  want  of  hard  reading  and  accurate  scholarship  when 
young, — this  has  been  a  grievous  evil,  a  heavy  burthen  to  me  all  my  life ! 
I  have  wanted  tools  for  my  mental  powers.  Had  my  resources  been  trained 
by  art.  so  that  they  could  have  been  wisely  directed  during  my  past  life,  I 
feel  that  I  could  have  done  something  to  have  made  me  look  back  with  more 
satisfaction  on  these  bygone  years. 

"  Oh,  my  Father,  if  I  but  felt  assured  that  I  should  be  a  little  child,  then 
would  I  never  mourn  the  loss  of  my  first  childhood,  nor  fear  the  coming  on 
of  my  old  age! 

"  Glory  to  Thee  now  and  for  ever  that  I  have  been  born  twice  in  Thy 
kingdom  I" 

T"  Mrs.  Macleod  (during  her  ahsence  with  his  family  in  the  country)  : — 

"The  Study,  My2Gtk,  1858. 
"Why  do  you  leave  me  here  to  be  devoured  with  rats  and  grief1?  The 
house  is  horrible.  I  am  afraid  of  ghosts.  The  doors  creak  in  a  way  that 
indicates  a  clear  connection  with  the  unseen  world.  There  are  noises  too. 
How  slow  must  Hades  be  if  spirits  find  Woodlands  Terrace  at  this  season 
more  exciting!  How  idle  they  must  be  if  to  frighten  a  parson  is  their  most 
urgent  work !  And  yet  on  my  honour  I  believe  there  is  one  going  at  this 
moment  up  the  stairs." 

From  his  Journal: — 

"September  6. — I  have  been  too  busy  to  be  at  rest  with  my  family  at 
Elie.      I  start  to-day  with  Leitch*  for  a  dash  into  Switzerland      May  God 

*  The  late  Principal  Leitch. 
17 


258  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

guide  me  and  keep  me  holy  and  wise,  that  I  may  return  home  fit  in  mind 
and  body  for  my  winter  work !" 

To  Mrs.  Macleod: —  "Paris. 

"  Drove  to  Bois  de  Boulogne,  paid  considerably,  and  saw  nothing  but  the 
driver's  back.  My  money  goes  as  usual — like  snow.  Mammon  was  no 
doubt  a  devil ;  he  enters  into  the  coin,  and  it  rushes  down  steep  places  for 
ever  into  the  abyss,  and  never  returns.  Best  love  to  my  mother,  who,  were 
she  here,  would  go  on  the  stage,  or  think  she  was  dead,  or  if  not,  that  the 
Champs  Elysees  were  theologically  so." 

"Zurich,  Friday,  10th  September,  1858. 

"At  Basle  I  called  for  Auberlen.  We  spent  the  rest  of  our  time  in  the 
Institution  for  training  Missionaries,  and  had  all  my  principles  confirmed 
and  illustrated. 

"  Had  a  most  exquisite  drive  by  railway  to  this  place.  As  we  were  cross- 
ing a  valley,  the  range  of  Bernese  Alps  burst  suddenly  on  our  sight,  every 
mountain-side  and  peak  gleaming  on  their  western  sides  with  the  intense 
furbished  gold  we  saw  at  Mont  Blanc.  I  gave  a  cry  of  wonder  and  joy  that 
started  the  whole  carriage — ail  but  a  Cockney,  who  kept  reading  all  the  time 
a  Swiss  guide-book.  I  shall  never  forget  that  second  introduction  to  the 
Alps.  When  we  arrived  at  Zurich  we  drove  to  the  old  hotel ;  but  we  did 
not  look  fine  enough,  and  only  a  double-bedded  room  was  offered,  and  re- 
fused. Angry  at  this,  I  would  not  go  to  the  Baur,  but  came  out  at  the  first 
hotel  the  'bus  stopped  at.  This  Gasthof,  you  must  know,  presents  to  the 
Gasse  but  one  enormous  gable  with  seven  stories,  covered  by  a  projecting 
roof.  Within,  it  contains  a  combination  of  short  stairs,  passages,  kitchens, 
bed-rooms  and  eating-rooms,  utterly  indescribable  as  to  their  relative  posi- 
tions. 

"There  is  a  daily  paper  with  the  names  of  all  the  hotels  and  their  guests. 
I  see  in  ours  '  8  Militdr.'  These  are  common  soldiers;  the  town  is  full  of 
them,  and  a  dozen  are  billeted  in  our  lobby.  I  hear  the  drummer  practising 
in  the  Speise  Saal.  At  first  I  was  disposed  to  be  sulky,  but  Boss  so  thor- 
oughly enjoys  it,  and  is  so  thankful  for  having  come  to  this  sort  of  hotel, 
that  he  has  brought  me  to  his  own  mind.  My  window  commands  a  glorious 
view  r>f  the  lake,  and  the  roofs  of  half  the  houses.  Well,  1  find  I  am  nowhere 
so  happy  as  at  home.  Very  tridy  I  say  that,  even  here.  My  own  fireside 
and  my  home  parish  work  are  the  circles  within  which  is  my  earthly 
Paradise." 

"  Eagatz,  12th  September. 

"  The  baths  of  Pfeffers  are,  I  think,  in  their  way,  the  most  wonderful 
scene  I  ever  beheld.  Conceive  a  huge  fissure  about  five  hundred  feet  deep; 
the  edges  at  the  top  uniting  like  two  saws — now  in  contact,  and  then  an 
open  hole  through  which  you  see  the  blue  sky  and  the  intense  green  trees 
waving  in  light  some  hundreds  of  feet  above  you — fifty  feet  below,  the  raging 
stream.  It  is  a  wondrous  gorge  t?>  it !  We  ascended  by  a  zig-zag  path  about 
a  mile  higher,  and  came  up  to  the  pastures.  Oh  !  what  a  sight  of  green 
Uplands,  villages,  church  steeples,  ranges  of  precipices,  snowy  peaks,  moun- 
tains lighted  up  with  the  setting  sum,  and  what  tinkling  of  hundreds  of 


1857—1859.  250 

goat-bolls  !  I  could  have  sat  down  and  wept.  As  it  was,  T  lifted  up  my 
heart  in  prayer,  and  blessed  God  for  this  one  glorious  sight,  and  I  felt  I 
could  return  home  with  thankfulness." 

"Cannstadt,  20th  Sepicmler,  1858. 

"  I  preached  yesterday  forenoon  in  Stuttgart,  and  in  the  afternoon  here. 
The  English  clergyman  read  the  liturgy  in  the  morning.  The  congregation 
excellent ;  afternoon  crammed.  I  know  not  •when  I  felt  a  Sabbath  more 
truly  peaceful,  happy,  and  profitable  to  myself,  and  I  hope  and  believe 
also  to  others.  Walked  by  moonlight  along  the  old  street,  stood  before  the 
house,  went  to  my  old  post*  beyond  Hermann's  Hotel ;  recalled  all  the  past 
year  we  were  there  with  its  dark  sorrows  and  great  joys,  the  past  eight  years 
with  its  constant  sunlight ;  prayed,  and  looked  up  to  the  old  stars  which 
shone  on  me,  and  brought  me  then  such  true  light  in  the  same  spot. 

"  I  had  great  delight  in  preaching,  and  had  such  a  vivid  realisation  of  our 
dear  one's  life  in  heaven  and  his  hearty  realisation  of  that  '  kingdom  and 
glory,'  which  I  feebly  attempted  to  express." 

From  his  Journal: — 

"September  27th,  1858. — I  have  this  day  returned,  refreshed  and  in- 
vigorated in  mind,  spirit,  and  body. 

"  My  route  was  London,  Paris,  Basle,  Zurich,  Wallenstadt,  Ragatz, 
Pfeffers,  Bellinzona,  Isola  Bella,  back  by  St.  Gothard,  Lucerne,  Zurich, 
Cannstadt,  Heidelberg,  Mannheim,  the  Rhine,  Rotterdam,  Leith.  Time, 
three  weeks.  Cost,  £23  10s.  Gain,  undying  memories,  health,  and  happi- 
ness." 

"  November  2. — On  my  return  I  found  the  command  of  the  Queen  await- 
ing me  to  preach  again  at  Balmoral.  Preached  in  peace  and  without  notes. 
After  dinner  the  Queen  sent  for  me.  She  always  strikes  me  as  possessed  of 
singular  penetration,  firmness,  and  independence,  and  very  real.  She  was 
personally  singularly  kind,  and  I  never  spoke  my  mind  more  frankly  to  any 
one  who  was  a  stranger  and  not  on  an  equal  footing. 

" The  agitation  renewed  anent  non-intrusion.     No  reform  requiring 

an  Act  of  Parliament  will  interest  me  unless  it  unites  Presbyterianism  in 
Scotland.     That  is  the  thing  to  be  sought." 

"January  16. 's  birthday.        God  bless  my  child  !      Make 

her  simple,  earnest,  true,  and  above  all  other  things  in  the  universe,  Father, 
give  her  love  to  Thee,  that  in  all  her  difficulties  she  may  consult  Thee  and 
yield  to  what  her  conscience  tells  her  to  be  right,  that  in  all  her  trials  she 
may  trust  Thee  and  honour  Thee  by  grace,  and  that  she  may  ever  seek  to 
please  her  Saviour  in  soul,  spirit,  and  body,  which  are  His  !  Hear  us,  our 
God,  who  daily  pray  for  our  beloved  children  whom  Thou  hast  given  us  in 
Thy  great  love.     Amen !" 


The  centenary  celebration  of  the  birth  of  Piobert  Burns  created  im- 
mense excitement  in  almost  every  region  of  the  earth  where  Scotchmen 
could  congregate,  and  in  the  poet's  native  land  was  the  signal  for  the 

*  The  point  to  which  he  and  John  Mackintosh  walked  every  day. 


260  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

outbreak  of  a  bitter  war  between  the  pulpit  and  the  press.  There 
were  fanatics  on  both  sides.  Admirers  of  the  poet  would  not  brook 
exception  being  taken  to  their  hero-worship ;  this  provoked,  on  the 
opposite  side,  unmeasured  abuse  of  his  character  and  influence.  The 
sacred  name  of  religion  was  so  constantly  invoked  in  the  quarrel,  that 
no  clergyman  could  take  part  in  the  festival  without  risk  to  his  repu- 
tation. Norman  Macleod,  however,  felt  it  would  be  unmanly  not  to 
speak  what  he  believed,  and,  accordingly,  accepted  the  invitation 
which  had  been  sent  him  to  appear  at  the  Glasgow  Celebration.  As 
lie  was  the  only  clergyman  on  the  platform,  his  presence  was  greeted 
with  unusual  cheering.  Every  word  he  uttered  in  praise  of  the  poet 
was,  as  might  have  been  expected,  loudly  applauded ;  but  as  he  had 
come  to  utter  his  convictions,  he  was  quite  prepared  for  the  storm  of 
hissing,  mingled  with  cheers,  which  arose  as  he  adverted,  delicately 
but  firmly,  to  those  features  of  the  poet's  productions  which  every 
religious  mind  must  deplore.  His  speech  was  a  vindication  of  his  own 
position  as  a  Scotchman  and  a  clergyman,  and  before  he  concluded  the 
audience  showed  how  heartily  they  appreciated  his  independence  and 
honesty. 

"  There  are  two  things,"  lie  said,  "  which  to  me  make  Burns  sufficiently 
memorable.  One  is,  his  noble  protest  for  the  independence  and  dignity  of 
humanity,  as  expressed,  for  example,  in  that  heroic  song,  'A  man's  a  man 
for  a'  that.'  Another  is,  his  intense  nationality — a  noble  sentiment,  spring- 
ing, like  a  plant  deeply  rooted  for  ages  in  the  soil,  and  bearing  fruit  which 
nourishes  the  manliest  virtues  of  a  people.  Few  men  have  done  for  any 
country  in  this  respect  what  Burns  has  done  for  Scotland.  He  has  made 
our  Doric  for  ever  poetical.  Everything  in  our  land,  touched  with  the  wand 
of  his  genius,  will  for  ever  retain  the  new  interest  and  beauty  which  he  has 
imparted  to  it.  Never  will  the  '  banks  and  braes  of  bonnie  Doon'  cense  to 
be  '  fresh  and  fair,'  nor  the  'birks  of  Aberfeldy'  to  hang  their  tresses  in 
the  bright  atmosphere  of  his  song.  He  has  even  persuaded  Scotchmen  '  o' 
a'  the  airts  the  wind  can  blaw'  most  dearly  to  'lo'e  the  west,'  though  it 
Cannes  loaded  to  us,  who  live  in  the  west,  only  with  the  soft  favours  of  a 
'  Scotch  mist.'  So  possessed  are  even  railway  directors  and  rough  mechanics 
by  his  presence  and  his  power,  that  they  send  'Tarn  o'  Shanter'  and  'Souter 
Johnnie'  as  locomotives,  roaring  and  whistling  through  the  land  that  is 
called  by  his  name,  and  immortalised  by  his  genius.  How  marvellously  has 
he  welded  the  hearts  of  Scotchmen  throughout  the  world.  Without  him 
they  would,  no  doubt,  be  united  by  the  ordinary  bonds  of  a  common  country 
that  cannot  anywhere  be  forgotten — a  common  tongue  that  cannot  anywhere 
be  easily  mistaken — and  by  mercantile  pursuits  in  which  they  cannot  any- 
where be  wanted.  But  still  these  ties  would  be  like  the  cold  hard  cable 
that  connects  the  Old  and  New  World  beneath  the  Atlantic.  The  songs  of 
Burns  are  the  electric  sparks  which  flash  along  it  and  give  it  life;  and 
'though  seas  between  us  may  be  cast,'  these  unite  heart  and  heart,  so  that 
as  long  as  they  exist,  Scotchmen  can  never  forget  'auld  acquaintance,'  nor 
the  '  days  o'  lang  syne.'  And  yet,  how  can  a  clergyman,  of  all  men,  forget 
oi-  fail  to  express  his  deep  sorrow  on  such  an  occasion  as  the  present  for 
some  things  that  Burns  has  written,  and  which  deserve  the  unoom promising 


1857—1859.  261 

condemnation  of  those  who  love  him  best?  I  am  not  called  upon  to  pass 
any  judgment  on  him  as  a  man,  but  only  as  a  writer;  and  with  reference  to 
some  of  his  poems,  from  my  heart  I  say  it — for  his  own  sake,  for  the  sake 
of  my  country,  for  the  sake  of  righteousness  more  than  all — would  God  they 
were  never  written,  never  printed,  and  never  read  !  And  I  should  rejoice 
to  see,  as  the  result  of  these  festivals  in  honour  of  Burns,  a  centenary  edition 
of  his  poems,  from  which  everything  would  be  excluded  which  a  Christian 
father  could  not  read  aloud  in  his  family  circle,  or  the  Christian  cottar  on 
his  'Saturday  night'  to  his  sons  and  daughters.  One  thing  I  feel  assured 
of,  is,  that  righteously  to  condemn  whatever  is  inconsistent  with  purity  and 
piety,  while  it  cannot  lessen  one  ray  of  his  genius,  is  at  once  the  best  proof 
we  can  give  of  our  regard  for  his  memory.  If  his  spirit  is  cognizant  of 
what  is  done  upon  earth,  most  certainly  such  a  judgment  must  be  in  accor- 
dance with  its  most  solemn  conviction  and  most  earnest  wishes."* 


Some  influential  members  of  the  Presbytery  of  Glasgow  at  this  time 
moved  an  "overture"  (as  a  formal  representation  is  called)  to  the  Gen- 
eral Assembly  on  the  subject  of  Lay  Patronage.  At  once  perceiving 
the  importance  of  the  question  thus  raised,  he  supported  the  proposal 
in  a  long  speech,  and  it  is  interesting,  in  the  light  of  more  recent  Scot- 
tish ecclesiastical  history,  to  notice  the  care  with  which  he  had  already 
weighed  the  difficulties  besetting  the  policy,  in  which  he  was  after- 
wards to  take  a  conspicuous  lead. 

"  ....  I  dare  not  conceal  my  own  honest  convictions  of  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  getting  a  hearing  in  Parliament,  a  conviction  strengthened  when 
I  think  that,  in  1$43,  we  had  far  stronger  claims  to  be  heard  than  now,  and 
when  the  evils  calling  for  legislative  enactment  were  far  nooi-e  pressing.  I 
argue  from  the  general  temper  in  which  Parliament  legislates;  the  whole 
tendency  of  legislation  in  Parliament,  as  you  will  see  from  year  to  year, 
being  not  for  sections  of  the  community.  But  if  Parliament  is  willing  and 
read  y  to  hear  us,  I  for  one  would  most  assuredly  be  deeply  thankful  for  a 
legislative  measure  that  should  enable  us  to  cure  the  evil. 

"  There  is  another  way  of  looking  at  this  case,  which  seems  perhaps  to  be 

*He  afterwards  received  the  following  characteristic  letter  of  thanks  from  the  late 
able  and  lamented  Dr.  Duncan,  Professor  ol  Hebrew  in  the  Free  Church  College, 
Edinburgh. 

"  29&  January,  1859. 

"I  have  just  read  with  delight  the  extract  from  your  speech  at  the  Burns  Centen- 
ary Meeting.  The  works  of  Burns  are  a  power  whose  influence  is  to  be  felt,  and  will 
coutinue  to  be  so,  in  this  country  and  beyond  it ;  a  very  mixed  one  it  is  true.  In 
all  such  things  we  are  bid  to  choose  the  good  (thankfully,  as  all  good  is  of  God)  and 
refuse  the  evil.  'Abhor  that  which  is  evil  and  cleave  to  that  which  is  good.'  I  can 
deeply  sympathize  with  the  moral  tone  of  feeling  which  turns  from  the  whole  with 
the  loathing  which  the  smell  of  the  dead  fly  causes — the  miasma  which  it  spreads.  I 
cannot,  however,  think  that  the  zeal  of  some  'abounds  in  all  wisdom.'  To  abolish 
Burns  is  not  possible,  and  it  is  pleasing  to  think  that  the  'non  omnis  moriar'  may  be 
applied  to  our  great  lyrical  poet,  not  only  with  safety,  but  to  so  great  advantage. 

"I  beseech  you  prosecute  the  idea  of  printing  a  purified  centenary  edition.  The 
pearls  must  be  rescued.  Why  should  our  children  not  have  them  clear  of  the  impure 
dross  or  sand,  and  placed  in  as  flue  a  casket  as  the  hallowed  genius  of  the  nation  can 
produce  ?" 


262  LIFE  OF  NOfiMAN  MACLEOD. 

the  more  important,  when  regarded  with  reference  to  Scotland.  Many 
people  say,  '  What  have  we  to  do  with  other  Churches,  and  with  the  opin- 
ions of  the  Free  Church,  or  of  any  other  Church1?  We  have  to  do  with 
ourselves.'  I  say  we  sink  down  to  be  mere  sectarians  when  we  say  we  have 
only  to  do  with  ourselves  and  not  with  the  country.  I  say,  as  a  National 
Establishment,  we  have  to  do  with  the  nation  ;  as  a  National  Scotch  Estab- 
lishment, we  have  to  do  with  Scotchmen ;  and  I  should  never  like  to  hear 
any  great  question  discussed  merely  with  reference  to  its  relationship  to  our 
Church,  and  not  in  its  relationship  to  our  country.  When  we  look  at  this 
question  in  reference  to  the  whole  of  Scotland,  I  think  it  is  still  more  com- 
plicated. I  believe  that  the  welfare  of  Scotland,  as  a  whole,  is  bound  up 
with  Presbyterianism.  Scotland,  as  a  country,  will  rise  or  fall  with  its 
Presbyterianism.  It  is  warped  into  its  whole  historical  past,  into  the  hearts 
of  our  people,  as  not  one  other  element  in  our  national  greatness  or  history 
is.  The  second  point,  I  think,  you  will  agree  upon,  is  that  the  interests  of 
Presbyterianism  in  Scotland  are  bound  up  with  the  Established  Church.  I 
do  not  say  the  Established  Church  exclusively,  but  I  say  the  Established 
Church  inclusively.  The  Presbyterianism  of  Scotland  might  be  the  better 
of  a  vigorous  Presbyterianism  always  lying  outside  of  the  National 
Establishment,  but  I  think  it  would  be  much  worse  if  there  was 
no  National  Establishment  at  all.  Now  what  is  the  present  state  of  our 
Church  in  reference  to  Scotland  generally  1  Episcopacy  has  unfortunately 
alienated  a  very  great  number  of  the  upper  classes,  not  from  the  Church  of 
Scotland  merely,  but  from  the  Presbyterianism  of  Scotland.  I  would  wish 
to  talk  gently  and  kindly  on  this  subject.  I  am  very  unwilling  to  attribute 
motives.  There  are  many  Episcopalians  whose  families  have  been  so  from 
generation  to  generation.  Many  of  these  have  never  belonged  to  the 
Church  of  Scotland,  and  are  yet  most  hearty  friends  of  the  Established 
Church  ;  some  of  them  are  among  her  kindest  and  most  generous  friends. 
There  are  others,  again,  who  have  become  Episcopalians  from  the  fact 
of  English  education  ;  and  there  are  others  who  have  become  so  from — 
I  hardly  know  how  to  express  my  meaning,  but  perhaps  a  little  flunkeyism 
would  not  be  a  bad  term.  While  there  is  a  great  mass  of  educated  gentle- 
men of  this  persuasion,  many  of  whom  are  my  personal  friends,  and  for 
whom  I  entertain  the  greatest  possible  respect,  there  are,  along  with  these 
clergy  and  laity,  who  are  antagonistic  for  conscience  sake,  not  only  to  the 
Church  of  Scotland,  but  to  Presbyterianism.  Looking,  again,  to  Presby- 
terians, we  see  that  there  is  a  great  number  of  the  middle  classes  who  do 
not  belong  to  the  Established  Church,  and  who  are  even  antagonistic  to  it. 
In  these  circumstances,  I  do  not  myself  see  how  the  Established  Church 
can  remain  as  she  is,  and  continue  to  be  the  National  Church.  There  is  no 
use  of  entering  on  the  question  whether  it  will  last  your  day  or  mine,  but  it 
is  perfectly  clear  that,  as  a  national  Church,  if  she  is  to  represent  the  Pres- 
bj'terianism  of  the  nation,  this  state  of  tilings  cannot  last.  Should  we  not 
deplore,  for  the  sake  of  Presbyterianism  in  Scotland,  and  for  the  sake  of  all 
Churches,  that  this  noble  old  Presbyterian  Establishment  should  be  perma- 
nently weakened,  or  should  fall  1  Presbyterianism  is  linked  inseparably 
with  the  holy  memories  of  the  Reformation.  Every  Reformed  Church  in 
every  part  of  Europe — let  me  say  so  to  Episcopalians — took  the  Presby- 
terian form,  either  in  fact  or  in  theory  \  in  France,  in  Spain,  in  Italy,  in  the 


1857—1859.  2G3 

National  Church  in  Germany,  in  Switzerland,  in  Holland,  in  Sweden,  and 
Norway,  this  was  the  case.  Are  we  now  to  have  no  representative  National 
Presbyterian  Church  speaking  the  English  language— and  this,  too,  in  the 
present  state  of  Episcopacy  and  Romanism  1  Well,  if  we  are  not  to  he  per- 
manently weakened  as  a  National  Establishment,  we  must  gather  the  mass- 
es of  Presbyterians  now  lying  beyond  our  pale.  In  one  word,  I  think  it 
is  the  duty  of  our  Church,  as  a  National  Church,  to  entertain  not  only 
privately  in  our  hearts,  but  publicly,  the  question  of  union  with  the  Free 
Church.  I  assume  that  such  a  union  is  as  essential  for  their  welfare  as  for 
ours.  We  should  cease  without  it  to  be  national  in  the  strongest  sense  of 
the  word,  and  they  would  cease  to  be  national  in  their  principles,  and  sink 
down  to  be  Voluntaries,  instead  of  retaining  the  convictions  and  principles 
on  which  they  left  the  Establishment.  I  do  not  think  we  can  exist  worthi- 
ly -as  a  great  National  Church  unless  some  such  union  takes  place.  But 
before  that  union  is  possible,  there  must,  in  the  nature  of  things,  be  legisla- 
tive enactment.  It  is  not  possible  with  the  present  state  of  our  law  with 
reference  to  the  induction  of  ministers,  not  to  speak  of  our  laws  affecting 
spiritual  independence.  The  Free  Church  men  have  justified  to  the  whole 
world  the  seriousness  and  strength  of  their  convictions  on  these  points ;  and 
if  we  are  to  be  as  one  again,  these  convictions  assuredly  must  be  respected 
by  us — at  all  events  they  themselves  will  respect  them." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"February  11. — A  girl  born  to  us.  We  give  her  to  the  Lord.  Bless 
His  name ! 

"  March  12. — '  We  give  her  to  the  Lord,'  and  this  night  it  would  seem 
as  if  the  Lord  would  take  her  to  Himself.  She  has  been  seized  with  cholera 
and  seems  very  weak. 

"March  15. — The  anniversary  of  my  ordination  twenty-one  years  ago ! 
I  have  attained  my  majority  as  a  minister.     Praise  the  Lord  for  it  ! 

"  In  proportion  as  I  realise  how  the  Lord  has  made  me  an  instrument  of 
good,  and  ever  heard  my  prayer,  and  blessed  my  miserable  labours  ;  in  that 
proportion  do  I  feel  how  deep  and  real  is  my  sin.  Where  has  been  the 
habitual  yearning  for  souls,  the  cherishing  them  as  a  nurse  her  children ; 
the  constant  prayer  for  them;  the  carrying  their  burden  ;  the  prompt 
action ;  the  devotedness ;  the  love  to  Christ  always  1  I  truly  feel  that  the 
thief  on  the  cross  owes  no  more  to  God's  grace  than  I  as  a  minister  do.  My 
sins  and  defects  as  a  minister  would  overwhelm  me,  unless  I  believed  in  that 
glorious  atonement  made  for  the  worst :  justification  by  faith  alone.  Father, 
in  Christ,  forgive  thine  unworthy  servant !  Enter  not,  enter  not  into 
judgment,  for  he  cannot  out  of  Christ  be  justified  !  I  plead  Thy  free  grace 
,-done. 

"  My  dear  babe  now  seems  fast  approaching  her  end.  I  baptised  her 
myself  on  Sabbath  morning. 

"  How  strange  that  she  knows  no  one  in  the  universe!  Yet  how  known, 
how  cared  for,  how  beloved  !  How  different  will  her  education  be  from 
ours  !  Yet  I  do  not  envy  it  now.  The  old  earth,  where  Christ  himself 
learned  obedience  as  a  child,  is  the  grandest  school. 

"  20th. — Now,  though  not  out  of  great  danger,  there  is  hope.  It  has 
been  a  most  blessed  time  !     We  gave  her  to  the  Lord,  I   believe  sincerely. 


& 


264  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

We  give  her  still,  as  far  as  we  know  our  hearts.  We  prayed  beside  her ; 
but,  with  the  yearning  implanted  in  our  hearts  by  our  Father,  we  cried  to 
Him  to  spare  her ;  and  God  knoweth  how  I  feel  it  is  His  doing,  and  in 
answer  to  prayer,  if  she  is  spared. 

"  God  bless  my  sermons  to-day  on  Missions  in  St.  Andrew's  and  Barony! 
Hear  me,  Lord,  for  my  heart  is  in  it ! " 

There  were  few  important  questions  brought  before  the  Assembly 
of  1859  on  which  he  did  not  speak  at  length ;  most  of  them  touched 
on  matters  in  which  he  had  special  interest.  The  subject  of  the  revi- 
val, which  followed  on  the  great  American  awakening  of  1858,  was 
then  rousing  attention  in  Ireland  and  in  many  parts  of  Scotland.  He 
never  doubted  the  possibility  of  a  great  outpouring  of  the  Spirit,  and, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  movement,  he  wrote  and  preached  much  in  its 
favour.  Later  phases  of  it  compelled  him,  however,  to  modify  his  ex- 
pectations as  to  its  results ;  but  the  incredulity  with  which  the  very 
idea  of  a  revival  was  regarded  by  many  of  the  clergy,  grieved  him 
even  more  than  the  exaggerations  of  over-zealous  supporters.  When 
the  question  came  before  the  Assembly  of  1859,  it  did  so  in  a  shape 
which  excited  in  him  a  feeling  of  positive  indignation.  A  minister 
labouring  in  a  poor  parish  in  Aberdeen,  had  permitted  several  earnest 
laymen  to  address  his  people  from  the  pulpit ;  and  the  Fresbytery, 
avoiding  any  expression  of  opinion  as  to  the  character  of  their  teach- 
ing or  its  results,  had  thought  proper  to  rebuke  their  more  zealous 
brother  on  the  technical  ground  of  having  allowed  laymen  to  speak  in 
church.  This  unsympathetic  method  of  putting  down  an  earnest,  and, 
at  worst,  a  mistaken  attempt  to  do  good,  touched  Norman  Macleod  to 
the  quick. 

"  A  few  Christian  men,"  he  said,  "  came  to  Aberdeen,  and  were  brought 
within  the  sacred  walls  of  one  of  the  churches  there.  He  did  not  know 
whether  they  preached  a  sermon  or  not ;  he  did  not  know  whether  they 
stood  in  a  pulpit  fifteen  feet,  or  on  a  platform  seven  feet  high,  but  he  knew 
that  they  addressed  people  upon  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ,  and  that 
as  Christian  men  they  spoke  from  their  hearts  to  thousands. 

"  The  only  fault  found  with  these  men  seemed  to  be  that  they  addressed 
immortal  souls  on  the  truth  of  Christianity  within  the  walls  of  a  church, 
but  he  had  been  brought  up  in  the  belief  that  the  Church  of  Scotland  at- 
tached no  peculiar  sacredness  to  stone  and  lime.  It  had  been  pleaded  at 
the  bar  that  these  men  might  go  to  the  street.  But  there  were  many  laws 
that  were  tolerable  only  because  they  had  liberty  occasionally  to  break 
them ;  and  surely  all  Church  laws  must  subserve  the  one  grand  end  for 
which  all  Churches  exist.  They  might  have  decency,  order,  regularly  ap- 
pointed licentiates,  and  regularly  ordained  men,  and  death  all  the  while. 
This  was  not  a  time,  when  there  was  so  much  necessity  for  increased  spirit- 
ual life,  for  the  General  Assembly  to  occupy  a  whole  night  in  finding  fault 
because  a  minister  permits  a  layman  to  preach  the  gospel  from  a  pulpit.'"' 

He  also  spoke  upon  Home  Missions,  and  in  the  course  of  his  speed) 


1857—1859.  2G5 

took  occasion  to  repudiate  some  of  the  accounts  that  were  commonly 
given  by  social  and  religious  Reformers  of  the  condition  of  Glasgow, 
and  of  the  state  of  the  working  classes  there.  No  one  knew  better 
than  he  the  characteristic  faults  of  those  classes;  but  he  emphatically 
denied  the  exaggerated  statements  as  to  their  habits,  with  which  sen- 
timent tl  proposals  for  their  improvement  were  often  supported.  It 
must  also  be  confessed  that  he  was  hurt  by  the  manner  in  which  his 
views  had  been  misrepresented  by  that  advanced  section  of  abstainers 
who  were  ready  to  brand  a  man  as  an  abettor  of  drunkenness  if  he 
did  not  inculcate  their  special  opinions.  His  tract  on  Temperance  had 
been  more  than  once  most  unjustly  handled  by  these  people,  and 
partly  provoked  by  such  criticisms,  but  still  more  as  vindicating  for 
woi'king-men  the  liberty  which  was  not  denied  to  other  classes,  he 
spoke  with  a  warmth  and  frankness  which  startled  many. 

"  The  city  of  Glasgow  has  somehow  or  other  got  such  a  very  bad  name 
for  its  weather  and  its  morality,  that  one  would  suppose,  from  the  state- 
ments made  in  some  quarters,  we  sat  soaking  in  water  all  the  day,  and 
soaking  in  whisky  all  the  night ;  that  we  were  engaged  in  cheating  our 
neighbours  on  week  days,  and  on  Sabbath-day  sat  sulky  and  gloomy  in  the 
house.  There  has  been  a  great  tendency  to  exaggeration  in  describing  the 
condition  of  the  working  classes.  If  people  wish  to  advance  teetotalism, 
they  generally  begin  by  showing  what  a  dreadful  set  of  blackguai-ds  the 
working  classes  are.  When  the  question  of  the  suffrage  is  brought  above 
board,  and  if  men  do  not  wish  to  concede  it,  they  say,  '  Oh,  you  cannot 
grant  it  to  the  working  classes.'  These  poor  fellows  are  struck  right  and 
left,  and  the  impression  is  given  that  in  such  a  place  as  Glasgow  there  is 
nothing  in  the  East-end  but  an  enormous  mass  sunk  in  degradation,  while, 
in  the  Terraces,  and  Streets,  and  Squares  of  the  West- end  there  is  a  popu- 
lation almost  entirely  intelligent  and  pious. 

"  Do  not  let  us  fall  into  exaggeration.  We  have  an  enormous  mass  of 
ignorant  people  in  Glasgow.  We  have  a  mass  of  Irish,  neither  under  the 
cai-e  of  priest  or  presbyter,  and  in  a  wretched,  degraded  condition ;  but  I 
feel  there  is  a  vast  number  of  steady,  sober,  God-fearing  men  amongst  our 
working  classes  who  are  never  heard  of,  and  who,  whilst  these  drunken 
fellows  may  be  creating  a  disturbance  in  the  streets,  are  sitting  quietly  by 
their  firesides.  Generally  speaking,  I  must  say  the  working  classes  are 
very  like  the  upper  classes.  I  find  vulgar,  dissipated,  and  indecent  people 
in  both  classes.  I  must  also  state  that  the  working  classes  have  a  respect 
for  the  clergy,  and  will  always  receive  one  with  respect,  provided  he  treats 
them  with  respect.  But  if  one  goes  among  the  working  classes  he  ought 
not  to  do  so  as  if  arranging  for  Popish  controversies,  or  as  a  controversialist 
coming  from  one  class  to  another.  I  am  not  going  to  argue  the  question, 
though  I  am  ready  to  do  so,  but  I  hesitate  not  to  say,  as  the  result  of  my 
observation  of  Missions  to  Romanists  as  hitherto  conducted  in  cities,  that  so 
far  from  their  making  Roman  Catholics  and  the  lower  classes  more  accessi- 
ble to  the  clergy,  they  have  raised  up  barriers  in  their  way  which  it  is  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  overcome.  So  much  do  I  believe  this,  that  in  my  preach- 
ing   to  the  working-men  at  night,  I  tell  them  I  am  not  going  to  attack 


266  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

Romanism  or  Popery,  because  that  doing  so  has  driven  men  from  the  gospel. 
I  am  going  to  preach  the  gospel  only.  And  I  know  that  Roman  Catholics 
do  come,  brought  by  those  who  attend  regularly.  I  am  very  glad  that  it  is 
proposed  to  combine  the  anti-popery  agency  with  the  home-mission  agency, 
and  I  hope  the  Missionaries  will  go  earnestly  and  lovingly  amongst  the 
people  as  brethren  to  brethren,  not  in  the  attitude  of  saying,  '  You  are 
wrong  and  we  are  right/  or  '  We  only  want  you  to  come  from  the  Popish  to 
the  Protestant  Church.'  .... 

"  In  regard  to  the  means  taken  to  educate  the  working  classes  we  are  too 
apt  to  forget  that  man  is  a  compound  being,  a  social  being,  and  that  it  is 
important  to  help  him  to  better  house-accommodation,  and  a  better  know- 
ledge of  natural  laws.  Above  all,  do  not  assume  too  high  a  standard  as  to 
the  little  luxuries  enjoyed  by  working-men.  Some  say  the  working-man, 
in  order  to  be  temperate,  must  not  taste  a  single  drop  of  fermented  liquor ; 
and  people,  who  have  themselves  their  wine,  may  be  heard  talking  wisely 
about  the  horror  of  the  working-man  having  his  glass  of  beer  or  porter.  I 
cannot  talk  in  this  way.  I  should  feel  it  hypocritical.  I  would  rather  say 
to  them :  '  God  has  given  it  to  you,  don't  take  it  as  from  the  devil,  but  use 
it  as  from  God.  Don't  take  it  in  the  publichouses.  If  you  wish  to  use 
such  things,  do  so  frankly,  and  as  in  the  presence  of  God,  at  your  own  fire- 
side, or  before  family  worship,  and  if  the  minister  comes  in  offer  him  some, 
and  don't  be  ashamed.'  Do  not  let  me  be  misunderstood  as  to  what  I  say 
about  temperance,  because,  remember,  there  is  a  tendency  among  a  certain 
type  of  teetotalers  to  spread  as  facts  all  that  can  be  brought  against  any 
clergyman  who  dares  to  lift  up  his  voice  against  what  threatens  to  be  a 
terrific  tyranny  in  Scotland.  Now  mark  what  I  do  say.  Do  not  suppose 
that  when  visiting  the  houses  of  working  men  I  am  in  the  habit  of  taking 
anything  from  them ;  I  never  do  so.  Nor  would  I  be  undei-stood  to  say 
that  I  would  not  seek  to  make  teetotalers  among  the  working  classes. 
When  I  find  that  any  of  them  drink  to  excess,  I  try  to  make  them  resolve 
to  be  teetotal ;  but  I  put  it  in  this  form  :  '  Christ  desires  temperance,  and 
if  you  can't  be  temperate  without  being  teetotal,  then  you  must  be  teetotal.' 
In  the  same  way  some  people,  in  order  to  save  the  working-man  from  ex- 
travagance, say,  '  Oh,  this  is  dreadful ;  you  have  only  from  sixteen  to  seven- 
teen shillings  a  week  and  yet  I  have  more  than  once  found  you  with  a  pipe 
in  your  mouth.'  Now  why  should  he  not  smoke  his  pipe  ]  Do  you  imagine 
we  are  to  have  the  confidence  of  the  working  classes  if  we  speak  to  them  in 
that  fashion  1  I  would  rather  say  to  him,  '  I'll  give  you  tobacco  to  keep 
your  pipe  lighted,  I  like  one  myself.'  In  order  also  to  have  working-men 
keep  the  Sabbath,  some  are  in  the  habit  of  speaking  to  them  against  walk- 
ing on  the  Sabbath,  as  if  they  were  terrified  to  give  them  that  liberty.  But 
why  should  they  wish  to  be  less  liberal  than  God  who  has  made  us  and 
knows  our  frame  1  Let  us  be  fair  and  honest  with  the  working-man,  and 
you  will  find  him  display  no  tendency  to  pervert  your  teaching  if  you  deal 
with  him  in  a  spirit  of  liberality  and  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  God 
properly  interpreted.  But  when  you  are  less  liberal  than  God  and  draw  the 
bow  too  much  in  one  direction,  it  will  rebound  all  the  more  on  the  other." 

He  concluded  a  long  speech  by  expressing  his  conviction  that  the 
grand  instrument  for  elevating  the  working  classes,  and  all  classes,  is 


1857—1859.  207 

the  gospel.     Along  with  the  gospel,  many  plans  of  doing  good  might 
succeed;  without  the  gospel  they  would  certainly  fail. 

To  Miss  Scott  Moncrieff  : — 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  my  old  sciatica  lias  returned,  winch  makes  me 
quite  a  cripple  in  mind  and  body,  and  neither  of  these  instruments  can  be 
well  spared  by  the  minister  of  the  Barony.  I  had  an  American  clergyman 
breakfasting  with  me  yesterday,  and  he  tells  me  that  the  Revival  goes  on 
like  a  great  flood,  ever  deepening  and  widening  without  almost  an  eddy  or 
a  wave  ;  churches  full  every  morning  at  eight  in  all  the  great  cities,  and  life 
universally  diffused.  If  this  is  from  man,  he  is  not  so  corrupt — not  a  sinner, 
but  a  saint  in  his  disposition.  If  it  is  from  the  Devil — he  is  not  the  Devil 
we  have  taken  him  for.  But  it  is  from  God,  and  therefore  to  be  desired 
and  prayed  for.  My  American  friend  will  address  a  prayer  meeting  in  my 
church  on  the  subject.     Surely  Scotland  will  share  the  blessing." 

To  the  Rev.  W.  Fleming  Stevenson  :  — 

"Scjrfember  27Ui,  1859. 

"  I  have  every  intention  of  going  to  Ireland  when  the  seed  has  reached 
the  blade  or  full  ear  of  corn.  I  think  I  shall  then  be  able  to  have  a  truer 
understanding  of  the  work.  In  the  meantime  I  heartilv  recognise  it  as  a 
work  of  God.  Praise  him  for  it !  The  one  unquestioned  fact  of  universal 
religious  earnestness  is  itself  a  grand  preparation  of  the  soil  for  the  seed. 
We  must  sow  with  all  our  might.  Who  need  a  revival  more  than  some  of 
us  ministers  1 " 


CHAPTER    XV. 
1860— fit. 

AS  the  next  twelve  years  were  the  last,  so  they  were  the  most 
laborious  and  most  important,  of  his  life.  In  addition  to  his 
onerous  pastoral  duties,  he  now  accepted1  the  editorship  of  Good 
Words.  The  voluminous  correspondence  which  that  office  entailed 
necessarily  occupied  much  of  his  time ;  hut,  besides  numerous  minor 
articles,  he  contributed  to  its  pages,  between  1860  and  1870,  "The 
Gold  Thread,"  "The  Old  Lieutenant,"  "  Parish  Papers,"  "The  High- 
land Parish,"  "  Character  Sketches,"  "  The  Starling,"  "  Eastward,"  and 
"  Peeps  at  the  Far  East."  For  the  greater  part  of  the  same  period  he 
presided  over  the  India  Mission  of  the  Church  ;  and  during  its  course 
he  had  more  than  once  to  engage  in  painful  controversies  on  public 
questions,  which,  to  a  man  of  his  temperament,  were  more  exhausting 
than  the  hardest  work. 

lie  had  removed  during  the  previous  year  from  Woodlands  Terrace 
to  his  tutu  re  home  at  204,  Bath  Street ;  and  here,  as  a  refuge  from 
interruption*,  he  fitted  up  a  little  library  over  an  outside  laundry,  which 
was,  to  the  last,  his  favourite  nook  tor  study.  His  writing  table  was 
placed  at  a  small  window  which  he  had  opened  at  a  corner  ot  the 
room,  where  he  could  enjoy  a  glimpse  of  sky  over  the  roofs  ot  the  sur- 
rounding houses.  It  was  at  the  best  only  a  spot  of  heaven  tliat  was 
visible,  but  such  as  it  was,  it  afforded  him  some  refreshment  when,  in 
the  midst  of  his  work,  he  caught  a  passing  gleam  of  cloudland. 

Those  who  were  admitted  to  this  "  back  study  "  will  remember  the 
quick  look  with  which  he  used  to  turn  from  his  desk  to  scan  his 
visitor,  and  the  unfailing  heartiness  with  which,  even  in  his  busiest 
hours,  the  pen  was  cast  aside,  the  small  meerschaum  lighted,  and 
throwing  himself  on  a  couch  covered  with  his  old  travelling  buffalo 
robe,  he  entered  upon  the  business  in  hand.  But  the  continual  inter- 
ruptions to  which  he  was  exposed*  and  the  pressure  of  literary  engage- 

*Every  forenoon  there  was  quite  a  levee  at  his  house,  consisting  chiefly  of  the  poor 
ereking  his  aid  on  all  kinds  of  business,  relevant  and  irrelevant.  On  these  occasions 
hiB  valued  beadle,  Mr.  Lawson,  acted  as  master  of  the  ceremonies.  One  day  when  Nor- 
man was  overwhelmed  with  other  work,  and  the  door-bell  seemed  never  to  cease  ring- 
ing, some  one  said,  "  I  believe  that  bell  is  possessed  by  an  evil  spirit. "  "  Certainly," 
he  answered,    "  Don't  you  know  the  Pnuce  of  evil  spirits  is  called  Bellzebuh — from  his 


thus  torturing  hard-worked  ministers  ?" 


1800—01.  201) 

mcnts  gradually  drove  Lira  into  the  habit  of  working  far  into  the  night, 

and  as  he  seldom  failed  to  secure  at  least  an  hour  for  devotional  read- 
ing before  breakfast,  his  sleep  was  curtailed,  to  the  great  injury  of  his 
health. 

Good  Words  was  not  projected  by  him  but  by  the  publishers,  Mr. 
Strahan  and  his  partner  Mr.  Isbister.  When  Mr.  Strahan  (to  whose 
enterprise  and  genius  as  a  publisher  the  magazine  greatly  owed  its 
success)  ashed  him  to  become  its  editor  he  for  a  time  declined  to 
accept  a  task  involving  so  much  labour  and  anxiety.  But  he  had 
long  cherished  the  conviction  that  a  periodical  was  greatly  required  of 
the  type  sketched  by  Dr.  Arnold,  which  should  embrace  as  great  r. 
variety  of  articles  as  those  which  give  deserved  popularity  to  publica- 
tions professedly  secular,  but  having  its  spirit  and  aim  distinctively 
Christian.  The  gulf  which  separated  the  so-called  religious  and  the 
secular  press  was,  in  his  opinion,  caused  by  the  narrowness  and  literary 
weakness  of  even  the  best  religious  magazines.  He  could  see  no  good 
reason  for  leaving  the  wholesome  power  of  fiction,  the  discussion  of 
questions  in  physical  and  social  science,  together  with  all  the  humour 
and  fun  of  life,  to  serials  which  excluded  Christianity  from  their  pages. 
His  experience  while  conducting  the  Edinburgh  Christian  Magazine 
served  only  to  deepen  his  desire  to  have  an  ably  written  periodical 
which  would  take  up  a  manly  range  of  topics,  and  while  embracing 
contributions  of  a  directly  religious  character,  should  consist  mainly 
of  articles  "on  common  subjects,  written,"  as  Arnold  said,  "  with  a 
decidedly  Christian  tone." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"January  1,  half -past  12.— Into  Thy  hands  I  commit  my  life,  my  spirit, 
my  family,  my  all ! 

"  I  have  had  more  pleasure  in  preaching  this  year  than  any  year  of  my 
life.  Sabbath  after  Sabbath  I  have  had  joy  in  the  work,  and  have  been 
wonderfully  helped  by  God  out  of  the  pulpit  and  in  it.  I  had  my  usual 
evening  sermons  with  the  working  classes.  But,  strange  to  say,  though  it 
was  a  time  of  revival,  and  my  heart  longed  for  one,  and  a  prayer-meeting 
was  established  for  one,  and  I  preached  two  months  longer  than  usual,  the 
results  as  to  attendance  and  conversions  were  far  poorer.  I  cannot  yet  ac- 
count for  this,  except  on  the  supposition  that  the  good  which  flowed  through 
this  channel  has  gone  through  others  into  God's  treasury.     Amen* 

*  The  following  anonymous  letter  wliicli  he  received  expresses  graphically  the  impres- 
sion these  services  had  on  the  poor. 

"I  hope  you  will  excuse  me,  Sir,  a  poor  woman,  to  address  you,  one  of  the  greatest 
men  of  the  City,  but  I  feel  so  grateful  for  your  unwearied  kindness  in  preaching  to  us 
working-people  many  winters,  just  out  of  pure  good  will  for  the  real  good  of  our  souls  ; 
if  the  prayers  of  the  poor  are  of  any  avail,  I'm  sure  you  have  them  heartily,  you  have 
no  idea  how  proud  we  are  to  see  yourself  coming  into  the  pulpit. 

"  I  remember  some  of  the  lectures  very  well  last  winter  on  the  Creation,  on  the  fall 
of  Man,  the  Flood,  and  Abraham  offering  up  his  son  Isaac,  and  how  delighted  we  were 
that  night  when  you  were  on  Liztrus,  and  Martha  and  Mary.  I  heard  you  on  the  mys- 
teries of  providence,  and  1  understood  it  well,  Sir,  as  I  heard  you  mention  how  it  was 
explained  to  yourself  that  flight  when  you  thought  Mrs.  Macleod  was  dying. 


270  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"The  editorship  of  'Good  Words'  was  given  me.  I  did  not  suggest  or 
ask  the  publication,  and  I  refused  the  editorship  for  some  time.  On  the 
principle,  however,  of  trying  to  do  what  seems  given  me  of  God,  I  accepted 
it.     May  God  use  it  for  His  glory  !" 

To  Mrs.  Macleod:—  "Highfield,  May,  18G0. 

"  This  is  a  magnificent  country,  and  the  house  stands  on  a  gentle  eminence, 
and  there  is  such  a  glorious  prospect  of  massy  and  majestic  forest  from  it, 
with  low  blue  hills  far  away.  Spring  is  here  in  its  full-flooded  glory.  The 
woods  are  smothered  with  songs  and  nests.  The  nightingales  disturb  one's 
repose.  The  roses  are  out,  and  a  thousand  flowering  shrubs.  But  yet  I 
can  think  of  little  but  you  and  the  bairns,  and  would  prefer  the  confusion 
of  the  house  with  you  all,  to  this  grandeur  and  all  the  happiness  of  seeing 
my  dear  old  friends  again,  without  you.  I  walked  through  a  lane  of  Scotch 
firs  to-day,  with  such  peeps  of  woodland  and  English  glories  as  were  awful. 
Yet  somehow  I  am  sad.  It  may  be  indigestion,  or  anticipated  work,  or 
perhaps  the  devil,  or  sin,  but  so  it  is. 

"  We  had  a  grand  lunch  yesterday  at 's.     Noble  pictures,  a  nice 

fellow,  and  lots  of  people  who  never  knew  of  my  existence,  or  I  of  theirs. 
They  came  and  went  like  a  dream.  They  might  have  been  ghosts  but  for 
the  tremendous  luncheon  they  ate." 

To  J.  M.  Ludlow,  Esq. :—  "June  1,  1860 

"  I  saw  in  Paris  all  I  wished  to  see,  and  more  than  I  expected  to  have 
seen.  I  visited  the  jeweller's  and  file-makers,  and  had  a  great  deal  of  full 
and  free  talk  with  the  men,  through  a  patient  interpreter.  These  men  have 
made  a  deep  and  singularly  favourable  impression  upon  me.  They  seem  to 
me  to  be  the  most  hopeful  class  (and  more  hopeful  than  any  I  supposed  to 
exist  among  the  people  of  Paris)  out  of  which  to  rear  a  strong,  truthful, 
manly,  living  Church  of  Christ.  Would  to  God  that  earnest  pastors  met 
them  face  to  face,  heart  to  heart !  Honest  fellows,  I  seem  still  to  feel  the 
firm  grasp  of  their  hands  !  Their  muscles  are  firmly  strung  to  their  hearts, 
and  vibrate  from  them.  I  do  not  think  their  associations  liave  had  much 
success,  but  they  prophecy  a  brighter  future  in  better  times. 

"  I  have  heard  much  of  Highland  revivals  since  I  saw  you.  The  fanaticism 
is  dreadful,  the  evils  monstrous,  and  the  fruits  small ;  yet  life,  life,  is  the 
one  grand  want  of  our  Protestant  churches,  come  how  or  when  it  mav.  All 
is  dark  to  me  save  God. 

"As  to  my  taking  offence,  thank  Heaven  a  pretty  good  schooling  has 
developed,  a  la  Darwin,  a  rather  thin-skinned  Celt  into  a  tolerably  fair 
specimen  of  a  pachydermatous  Saxon.  I  never  take  offence  except  when  I 
believe  a  man  tries  to  insult  me,  which  I  don't  remember  has  happened. 
And  then  1    Why  enter  on  the  discussion  of  such  a  nice  bit  of  casuistry !" 

''  Oh,  Sir,  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me  for  using  so  much  freedom  as  this  with  you, 
Vit  I  thought  I  might  never  have  an  opportunity  of  expressing  my  gratitude  to  you  per- 
sonally, but  I  thought  a  word  1'iom  even  an  old  woman  would  help  to  encourage  you. 
1  have  hrard  you  say  your  own  faith  was  sometimes  like  to  fail. 

"  I  count  it  a  great  privilege  to  get  leave  to  hear  from  you,  you  speak  so  kindly  to  us. 
I  never  did  this  before  to  any  one,  but  I  never  felt  so  much  indebted  to  any  minister 
before  now.  Sit,  1  hope  you  will  forgive  me  if  I  have  done  wrong — it's  for  no  selfish 
end,  depend  on  it,  or  I  would  have  given  my  name  and  address.     I  am  just  a  widow." 


18G0— Gl.  271 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"July  20. —  Wellbank,  Compete. — We  have  taken  this  sweet  place  for  two 
months,  and  jnst  as  I  was  beginning  to  enjoy  the  old  nest,  and  to  commune 
with  the  old  hills,  the  dear  nurses  of  my  youth,  I  am  suddenly  called  away 
to  Russia  ! 

"...  I  have  been  ashed  to  aid  my  Scotch  countrymen.  I  never  sought 
it.  I  prayed  Cod  to  direct  me — and  I  have  perfect  peace  from  feeling  it  to 
be  His  will,  and  so  I  go.  What  more  can  I  do  to  discover  God's  will  than  a 
call  to  work — prayer  for  guidance,  a  good  conscience,  and  no  argument 
against  the  work  1 

"  It  is  strange  that  I  have  never  mentioned  in  my  Journal  what  has  been 
so  near  my  heart,  my  call  to  minister  to  dear  Lady  Bute  on  her  death-bed  ! 
In  December  I  was  summoned  by  telegram  to  visit  her.  I  found  her  sister 
with  her.  Lady  Bute  was  almost  speechless.  I  knelt  beside  her,  and  spoke 
into  her  ear,  repeating  suitable  texts  of  Scripture.  She  evidently  under- 
stood me,  for  while  I  spoke  she  suppressed  her  breathing  so  as  to  listen, 
and  then,  as  I  ended,  she  breathed  rapidly,  turning  her  ear  away.  May 
that  dear  boy  know  God  as  his  Father,  even  as  his  earthly  father  and  mother 
knew  Him,  and  this  will  be,  as  eternity  is  to  time,  above  all  earthly  riches 
to  him.  I  had  prayers  with  him  and  his  aunt.  I  offered  to  remain  all 
night,  and  begged  to  be  sent  for  in  the  morning.  So  ended  a  life  full  of 
deep  interest.  She  had  a  singular  and  noble  sense  of  duty — a  refined  sense 
of  what  was  due  to  God  and  man — with  a  masculine  intellect ;  a  deep,  ten- 
der heart  to  her  friends,  a  marvellous,  chivalrous  devotion  to  her  relations 
— father,  mother,  sisters,  and  son  especially.  I  believe  she  is  in  glory — 
saved  through  Him  whom  she  knew  and  loved  sincerely.  I  was  afterwards 
at  her  funeral.  My  dear  Macnab  was  there,  his  beloved  wife,  and  my  own 
John  Campbell.  I  accompanied  Mr.  Macnab  afterwards  to  Carlisle.  He 
died  a  month  afterwards,  and  a  more  perfect  Christian  gentleman  or  finer 
man  in  all  respects  I  never  knew.     He  was  ausgebildet  within  and  without." 

The  following  extracts  are  from  letters  written  to  Mrs.  Macleod 
during  his  visit  to  Russia.  An  account  of  his  tour  and  its  impressions 
appeared  in  Good  Words  for  1861. 

"St.  Petersburg,  August  7,  18G0. 

"Met  to-day  old  General  Wilson,  who  came  from  Scotland  when  eight 
years  old.     He  saw  the  Empress  Catharine  in  1784. 

"Now,  I  must  confess  that  St.  Petersburg  has  as  yet  greatly  disappointed 
me.  The  Neva  is  a  noble  river:  St.  Isaac's  is,  outside,  a  noble  church. 
The  bridge  is  fine,  so  are  the  granite  quays ;  some  of  the  statues  fine — but 
the  town  as  a  whole  is  as  dust  to  Paris.  There  is  a  mixture  of  big  and 
mean  buildings — a  want  of  finish  which  reminds  me  of  an  American  town. 

"The  heat  is  considerable  :  the  gentry  are  absent.  You  see  almost  no 
military,  no  music,  no  cofes,  no  fine  hotels  ;  but  a  hot,  white,  glaring,  dead 
slowness  in  the  place.  It  is  sad,  not  joyous — heavy,  not  gay.  The  service 
of  the  Greek  Church  is  far  less  interesting  than  the  Roman  Catholic." 

"August  10. 
"  We  have  met  several  Scotchmen.     I  saw  a  Highlander  in  full  dress  in 


272  LIFE   OF  NO  KM  AN  MACLEOD. 

church,  and,  to  his  astonishment,  addressed  him  in  Gaelic.  Curiously 
enough,  1  met  three  men  together  at  a  work — one  was  from  the  Barony, 
the  second  from  Campbeltown,  the  third  from  Dalkeith. 

"I  preached  the  night  before  last  on  the  top  of  a  gas  meter  to  about 
forty.  Most  of  the  people  were  from  Glasgow.  It  was  a  queer  sight.  I 
sung  the  Psalms — no  seats  or  books  ;  lots  of  Russian  workmen  stood  around 
to  hear  the  Scota  'pope' — as  the  priests  are  called.  '  My  heart  is  full,'  said 
a  Scotch  woman,  taking  my  hand,  '  I  canna  speak.' 

"  I  spent  three  hours  in  St.  Isaac's  on  Sunday ;  got  my  pocket  picked. 
The  service  was  beyond  all  measure  tiresome.  Crowds  of  priests  with  the 
Metropolitan  at  their  head — most  magnificent  dresses.  Chanting  beautiful, 
voices  exquisite,  but  vast  sameness.  It  lasted  three  hours,  and  was  followed 
by  the  kissing  of  the  Cross  and  the  Bible,  &c.  It  would  take  pages  to  give 
you  an  idea  of  what  is  not  worth  knowing.  It  is  externally  worse  than 
Rome.  Russian  life  I  cannot  see.  I  know  no  more  than  you  do  of  the 
country." 

"Sweden,  August*  til 

"  I  am  here  in  a  station  on  the  railway,  by  the  margin  of  a  wild  High- 
land Loch,  having  come  out  to  visit  a  few  Scotchmen.  I  left  St.  Petersburg 
on  Tuesday  week,  without  any  regret,  never  wishing  again  to  visit  that  slow, 
big,  ill-paved,  drosky-thumped,  expensive  capital. 

"Thank  God,  there  are,  however,  signs  of  life  everywhere.  Thousands 
of  the  Scriptures  are  being  circulated  in  Russia.  Gospel  preaching  is  heard 
in  Finland,  and  in  Sweden.  The  dry  bones  are  everywhere  stirring,  though 
the  breath  has  come  to  a  few  only. 

"  The  system  of  the  Church  in  Sweden  is  quite  perfect  of  its  kind.  No 
dissent  is  permitted.  Every  child  is  educated.  All  must  be  confirmed,  and 
thoroughly  taught,  and  examined  in  the  small  and  larger  catechism.  Every 
one  before  getting  a  situation,  even  a  servant,  must  produce  a  certificate  in 
which  is  marked  the  number  of  times  and  the  last,  in  which  he  has  com- 
nmnicated.  There  is  probably  not  a  person,  the  vilest,  who  has  not  such. 
What  is  the  result  1  formality,  deadness,  and  an  immense  amount  of  corrup- 
tion. The  longer  I  live  the  more  I  am  convinced  that  the  more  perfect  the 
government,  the  less  it  should  interfere  with  religion.  If  men  won't  do 
right  because  it  is  right,  what  is  the  good  of  it  1  Give  me  freedom  with  all 
its  risks." 

On  his  return  from  Tiussia  his  attention  was  directed  to  a  speech 
made  by  a  distinguished  and  much  respected  professor  in  a  Scotch 
University,  a  keen  advocate  of  Total  Abstinence,  who  had  taken  Dr. 
Macleod's  tract,  "  Plea  for  Temperance,"  as  his  text  at  a  meeting  of  the 
League,  held  in  Glasgow. 

To  Professor : — 

"Glasgow,  I860. 

"...  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  taking  notice  of  all  the  'hard  speeches' 
which  had  been  uttered  against  me  by  violent  and  unscrupulous  abstainers. 
There  are,  I  rejoice  to  know,  among  teetotalers  very  many  persons  whom 
I  highly  respect  for  their  own  and  for  their  work's  sake,  and  many  intimate 


1800— CI.  273 

and  dear  friends  with  all  of  whom  I  am  glad  to  co-operate  in  my  own  way, 
according  to  my  given  light  and  conscientious  convictions.  But  I  protest 
that  there  is  also  among  them,  a  rabble  of  intemperate  men,  revelling  in  the 
pride  of  power  which  enables  them  as  members  of  a  great  league,  and  under 
cover  of  an  exclusive  profession  of  self-sacrifice  for  the  public  weal,  to  bully 
the  timid  and  to  exercise  all  the  tyranny  possible  in  a  free  country  over 
every  man,  especially  a  Christian  minister,  who  presumes  to  dissent  from 
their  views  of  duty  and  to  resist  their  demands,  or  who  dares  to  defy  their 
threats  and  despise  their  insinuations.     Such  men  I  never  notice. 

"  But  it  is  otherwise  when  a  learned  and  Christian  gentleman  like  you 
attacks  me. 

",  .  .  Yes,  I  think  your  remarks  were  unfair,  uncalled  for,  and  calcu- 
lated, as  far  as  your  influence  and  words  extend,  to  injure  my  character,  and 
weaken  my  hands  in  labouring  among  the  working  classes  whose  well-being 
is  dearer  to  me  than  life.  I  must  ask  you  to  prove  your  assertions,  and  to 
justify  your  remarks  on  me  and  my  writings  more  fully  than  you  have  done 
in  your  speech,  and  upon  other  principles  than  those  of  the  League.  I  do 
not  ask  you  to  explain  or  defend  the  'principles'  of  total  abstinence,  to  show 
their  harmony  with  Scripture,  or  their  expediency  as  rules  of  action  in  the 
present  state  of  society.  All  this  I  am  willing  for  argument's  sake  to  take 
for  granted.  But  what  I  demand  in  justice  from  your  hands  is  to  prove 
that  the  principles,  the  argument,  the  spirit,  or  any  one  thing  else  in  my 
tract  is  inconsistent  with  any  other  things  in  the  Word  of  God,  which  I  re- 
cognise as  'the  only  rule  of  faith  and  morals.'  Nay,  you  are  bound,  in  order 
to  justify  yourself,  to  prove  my  teaching  to  be  so  inconsistent  as  to  have 
wan-anted  you  in  exposing  it  as  you  have  done,  and  in  holding  me  up  as  a 
foe  of  temperance,  and  my  tract  as  calculated  to  confirm  drunkards  in  their 
vicious  habits  ;  nay,  to  ruin  souls  temporally  and  eternally.  Pray  keep  to 
this  simple  theme.  Put  my  tract  and  Scripture  side  by  side,  and  in  clear 
language,  and  with  truthful  criticism,  point  out  the  contradictions  between 
Bible  and  tract,  in  word,  principle,  or  spirit.  Wherein  do  they  differ  ? 
Wherein  am  I  not  of  Paul,  or  of  Cephas,  or  of  Christ  1  Is  it  in  my  exposi- 
tion and  denunciation  of  the  crime  of  drunkenness  1  Is  it  in  my  urgent  re- 
commendation to  all  drunkards  to  adopt  total  abstinence  as  essential  in  their 
easel  Is  it  my  toleration  of  the  temperate  use  of  drinks  by  Christian  men, 
which  in  excess  would  intoxicate  ]  Is  it  in  admitting  that  in  certain  cases 
total  abstinence  should  be  adopted  by  sober  men  1  Do  point  out,  I  beg 
of  you,  anything  I  have  written  which  Paul  or  our  great  Master  would  con- 
demn, and  which  warranted  you  holding  me  up  as  a  foe  of  temperance,  and 
as  a  real,  though  unintentional  helper  of  the  devil  in  his  work  of  ruining 
souls  temporally  and  eternally." 

To  the  Same  :— 

"I860. 

".  .  .  I  do  not  for  one  moment  imagine  that  you  intended  to  injure 
my  character  or  usefulness ;  but  I  believe  your  speech  tended  to  do  both, 
upon  grounds  which  seemed  to  me  unfair.  I  account  for  this  in  my  own 
mind  by  the  one-sided  influence,  pardon  me  for  saying  so,  which  the  frequent 
and  hard  riding  of  a  hobby  produces  on  an  eager  and  earnest  rider,  more 
especially  when  several  thousand  persons  at  an  annua)  meeting  like  that  of 

18 


27 1  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

the  League,  are  galloping  fast  and  furious  in  the  same  heat.  You  allude 
also  to  what  you  are  pleased  to  call  my  remarkable  speech  in  the  General 
Assembly  of  '50,  as  calculated  to  increase  the  danger  of  my  teaching  as  given 
in  the  tract.  I  remember  the  speech  well.  My  remarks  made  on  that  oc- 
casion with  reference  to  the  reformation  of  the  working  classes,  proposed  by 
total  abstainers  from  alcohol  and  tobacco,  were  a  mere  episode  in  a  very  long 
speech  on  a  great  subject,  and  were  not  premeditated.  They  were  published 
also  in  newspapers  in  a  separate  shape,  and  unconnected  with  the  speech  of 
which  they  formed  a  very  unimportant  part.  For  some  time  they  were  a 
common  and  favourite  target  for  the  fiery  darts  of  total  abstainers.  Your 
allusion  to  them  affords  me  an  opportunity  of  stating  that  after  mature 
deliberation  I  see  nothing  in  them  to  regret  or  retract.  It  is  still  my  belief 
that  we  must  apply  (and  in  this  you  will  agree  with  me)  the  same  principles 
in  seeking  to  Christianize  the  habits  of  rich  and  poor ;  for,  to  use  a  vulgar 
but  expressive  simile,  'what  is  sauce  for  the  goose  is  sauce  for  the  gander.' 
Since  I  do  not  therefore  feel  myself  justified,  in  the  General  Assembly  or 
out  of  it,  in  condemning  the  rich  man  for  drinking  his  glass  of  wine  after 
dinner,  or  even  for  smoking  his  cigar  (to  the  horror  of  the  excellent  Dean  of 
Carlisle)  after  breakfast,  neither  can  I,  without  hypocrisy  or  impertinence, 
condemn  the  working  man,  who  has  fewer  sources  of  physical  gratification, 
for  taking  his  glass  of  beer,  or  smoking  his  pipe  if  so  disposed,  at  his  humble 
fireside.  It  is  not  my  special  province  to  recommend  either ;  yet  neither  am 
I  called  upon  as  a  Christian  minister  to  condemn  either.  But  I  am  not 
ashamed  to  confess  that  I  would  'recommend'  the  working  man  who  was 
disposed  to  take  his  beer,  to  do  so  at  his  own  fireside,  if  I  thereby  helped  to 
keep  him  from  whiskey,  above  all  from  the  terrible  temptations  of  the  pub- 
licho\ise.  All  this  I  expressed  in  the  hearing  of  our  friend  Dr.  Guthrie, 
upon  oath  to  Her  Majesty's  Commissioners  when  giving  evidence  with  refer- 
ence to  the  working  of  the  Forbes-Mackenzie  Act.  For  I  firmly  believe 
that  one  way  of  hindering  men  from  sinfully  abusing  God's  gifts,  is  to  help 
them  to  use  them  according  to  His  will ;  and  that  all  reforms  which  ignore 
the  lawful  gratification  of  those  universal  instincts,  physical,  mental,  and 
moral,  which  God  has  implanted  in  humanity,  are  essentially  false,  and  in 
the  long  run  will  fail  to  produce  even  the  specific  good  which  their  promo- 
ters intended,  or  will  develop  other  evils  equally,  if  not  more,  destructive  of 
the  well-being  and  happiness  of  man.  Hence  my  conviction  is  becoming 
every  day  more  profound,  that  the  gospel,  as  revealing  God's  will  through 
His  Son,  is  the  only  true  and  safe  reform,  for  it  does  not  ignore  any  item  of 
man's  complex  nature,  but  equally  and  beautifully  develops  the  whole. 
Believing  this,  I  have  humbly  endeavoured  honestly  to  keep  my  fellow  men 
in  accordance  with  what  seems  to  me  to  be  the  will  of  God.  Hence  I  have 
not  contented  myself  with  always  protesting  against  a  positive  evil,  but  have 
also  declared  in  favour  of  its  opposite  good,  that  so  God's  mercies  may  the 
more  gladly  be  accepted  and  appreciated,  and  the  devil's  perversion  of  them 
be  the  more  readily  rejected  and  detested. 

"  What  I  have  done  may  He  within  Himself  make  pure  ! 

"  One  word  more  before  bringing  this  correspondence  to  a  close.  It  is  a 
very  painful  thing  for  me  to  be  ever  and  anon  forced  into  the  position  of 
even  appearing  to  be  an  enemy  to  total  abstainers  and  their  work.  Because 
I  have  written  a  tract  with  heart,  will,  and  strength  against  drunkenness, 


1860—61.  275 

and  striven  earnestly  with  a  solemn  sense  of  my  responsibility  before  God  to 
accomplish  its  cure,  on  what  I  believe  to  be  sound  .Scripture  principles — an 
attempt  which  I  rejoice  to  know  has  in  many  cases  been  successful — 
does  it  not  seem  strange  and  hard  that  I,  of  all  men,  should  be  so  frequently 
held  up  as  a  foe,  a  quasi  friend,  or  in  some  way  or  other  an  enemy,  of  those 
who  with  equal  earnestness,  and  I  hope  with  greater  success,  are  labouring 
'n  the  same  cause1?  If  I  have  spoken  or  written  harshly  against  teetotalers, 
you  know  it  is  not  against  them  as  a  body,  or  against  their  work,  but  only 
against  the  injustice  and  tyranny  of  the  fanatical  portion  of  them,  who,  not 
only  in  public  but  in  private,  are  in  the  habit  of  attacking,  sneering  at,  or 
imputing  all  sorts  of  'sensual  and  empty'  motives  to  those  who  may  be  quiet, 
sober,  God-fearing,  temperate  men,  guilty  of  no  other  fault  than  refusing  to 
become  total  abstainers.  Now  all  I  demand  is,  that  I  and  others  who  act 
on  temperate  principles — a  class  comprehending  the  vast  majority  of  the 
Christian  laity  and  clergy  of  this  country — shall  be  treated  as  those  who 
may  be  presumed,  in  the  eye  of  charity,  to  have  as  much  common  sense, 
sound  Christian  principle,  and  self-denying  philanthropy  as  total  abstainers. 
Do  let  us  have  a  free-trade  in  those  Christian  virtues  of  justice,  mercy,  and 
kindness,  which  will  make  us  all  healthier  and  happier  than  can  even  thin 
French  wine.  Protest  with  me  against  all  monopolies  of  principle  and  wis- 
dom by  any  sect  or  party.  At  the  same  time  I  am  willing  to  acknowledge 
that  it  is  a  very  serious  fault  if  I  have  ever  spoken  or  written,  even  in 
ignorance,  any  sentiment  which  could  induce  a  Christian  brother  conscien- 
tiously to  suspect  or  to  condemn  me,  or  to  look  upon  me  in  any  other  light 
than  as  a  sincere  friend  and  coadjutor  of  every  man  who  seeks  to  elevate 
our  working  classes,  and  to  make  them  more  sober  and  God-fearing." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Lauder,  February  22,  1861. 

"  I  have  enjoyed  here  ten  days  of  extra  luxurious  rest !  No  bell,  no 
calls,  repose,  air,  exercise  (when  it  did  not  pour)  !  I  have  read  a  ton  of 
MSS. — all  Balaam  save  about  one  pound.  I  have  written  eighty-five 
letters,  and  so  I  return  with  a  load  of  work  off  me,  and  a  load  of  gratitude 
on  me. 

"  I  have  been  reading  McC'heyne.  How  thankful  I  should  be  if  I  had  a 
thousandth  part  of  his  devotedness.  How  simple,  yet  how  difficult !  Who 
can  doubt  human  corruption  and  utter  vileness,  when  we  find  it  difficult  to 
devote  ourselves  to  God  !" 

"June  3. — This  day  enter  my  fiftieth  year — half  a  century  old  ! 

"  'Would  that  my  tongue  could  utter 
The  thoughts  that  arise  in  me.' 

•'  Verily,  God's  mercies  are  more  than  can  be  numbered  ! 

"  I  desire  Thee,  God,  to  help  me  to  live  more  usefully,  more  devotedly  to 
Thee  ;  and,  above  all  other  things  to  have  fellowship  with  Christ  in  His  mind 
towards  all  men,  so  as  to  be  in  everything  a  fellow-worker  with  Himself. 

"  Many  good  people  don't  understand  the  purpose  of  Good  Words,  and  so 
it  sometimes  shocks  or  scratches  them — so  much  so  that  the  Tract  Society 
of  Edinburgh  have,  I  hear,  debated  how  far  they  can  patronize  it ;  and  I 
know  the  '  Pure  Literature'  (pure  water,  and  sometimes  pure  nonsense)  So- 


276  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

ciety  of  London  won't  recommend  it.  They  don't  think  '  Wee  Davie'  * — 
my  dear  wee  mannie  ! — sufficiently  up  to  the  mark  of  piety,  because  it 
omits  important  truth — just  as  St.  James's  Epistle  and  various  other  books 
of  the  Bible  do  !  From  my  heart  I  regret  this,  because  I  believe  it  is  the 
fushionless,  unreal,  untruthful,  pious'  story -telling,  which  some  of  our  tract 
societies  alone  patronize,  that  has  produced  the  story-telling  without  piety, 
but  with  more  truth  and  more  trash,  which  is  devoured  by  the  working 
classes.  Now,  I  have  a  purpose — a  serious,  solemn  purpose — in  Good 
)Yor<h.  I  wish  in  this  peculiar  department  of  my  ministerial  work  to 
which  I  have  been  '  called,'  and  in  which  I  think  I  have  been  blessed,  '  to 
become  all  things  to  all  men,  that  I  might  by  all  means  gain  some.'  I  can- 
not, therefore,  write  stories  merely  as  a  literary  man,  to  give  amusement. 
or  as  works  of  art  only,  but  must  always  keep  before  me  the  one  end  of 
leading  souls  to  know  and  love  God.  Most  popular  stories  are  based  on  the 
natural ;  the  finest  characters  are  assumed  to  have  been  the  growth  of  the 
old  man,  at  all  events,  to  have  been  irrespective  of  any  knowledge  or  recog- 
nition of  Christ.  Now,  I  believe,  in  my  soul,  that  all  which  one  discovers 
of  out-and-out  good  among  men,  really  and  truly,  is  ever  found,  as  a  fact, 
to  have  arisen  from  the  recognition  of  the  supernatural, — a  power  coming  to 
the  soul  through  Jesus  Christ.  Therefore,  I  must  make  this  the  open  and  con- 
fessed source  of  strength  in  my  characters,  because  I  find  it  in  society  as 
well  as  in  the  Bible.  But,  again,  in  writing  sketches  of  character,  I  must 
also  give  that  mixture  of  clay  which  all  of  us  have,  and  express  the  inner 
life  in  print,  just  as  I  see  it  expressed  in  actual  life ;  and  I  am  bold  enough 
to  assert  that  my  life-sketches  are  truer  far  as  tracts  than  those  productions 
are,  which  make  working-men,  ay,  young  children,  speak  like  Eastern  patri- 
archs or  old  apostles.  I  may  be  wrong  in  my  idea  as  to  how  Good  Words 
should  be  conducted,  and  I  cannot,  of  course,  realize  it  as  I  wish  to  do,  but 
I  have  a  purpose  which  I  believe  to  be  right,  and  can  therefore  pray  to 
Christ  to  bless  it ;  and  can  also  humbly,  but  firmly,  go  ahead,  whatever  the 
leligious  world  may  say.  I  know  that  I  seek  so  to  conduct  it  that  I  would 
not  be  ashamed  to  have  it  beside  me  on  my  death-bed.  If  it  is  not  pleasing 
to  Christ,  from  my  soul  I  desire  that  He  may  bring  it  to  nought." 

To  Miss  Margaret  Campbell: —  "  Februarv    1861. 

"I  am  going  to  finish  'Ned  Fleming.'  f  I  always  have  your  brother 
Dugald  before  me  as  my  hero — Ahi  Memoria  !  How  are  they  gone,  '  the 
old  familiar  faces  !'  Yet  they  are  immortal  in  memory.  Those  Campbel- 
town times  and  these  old  companions  have  had  an  immense  influence  on  my 
life.  The  code  of  honour  which  emanated  from  your  father's  roof  I  always 
recognized  as  one  of  the  great  powers  which  have  helped  to  build  me  up  to 
what  I  am.  We  never  told  a  lie  !  Yes,  once,  when  we  broke  Bell  Fisher's 
crocks  !     Innocent  souls  !" 

To  J.  M.  Ludlow,  Esq.  :—  "March  16,  1861. 

"  The  articles  upon  the  Deaconesses  in  Good  Words  seem  to  prepare  the 

•  "  Wee  Davie"  was  written  in  his  brother  Donald's  Manse  at  Lauder,  during  a  snow- 
storm, and  was  finished  after  two  sittings.  When  Norman  tried,  on  its  completion, 
to  read  it  aloud,  he  was  more  than  once  so  choked  with  tears  that  he  had  to  lay  it 
down. 

+  In  the  "  Old  Lieutenant." 


18G0— Gl.  277 

way  for  what  you  intended  to  write,  or  proposed  to  write,  upon  the  useful 
sisterhoods  in  the  Church  of  Rome.  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  your  views 
upon  that  most  useful  class  of  females;  but  do,  my  dear  fellow,  remember 
that  you  are  writing  for  John  Smith  and  his  wife,  up  one  'pair'  of  stairs, 
alter  a  tea-dinner  at  6  o'clock ;  John  indifferent  to  the  movements  of  the 
starry  heavens,  and  Mrs.  Smith  absorbed  in  the  toes  of  John's  stockings. 
Think  of  these  (if  you  can)  and  you  will  write  splendidly." 

To  Miss  Keddie,  on  the  loss  of  her  Sister : — 

"Adelaide  Place,  March  17,  18G1. 

"  It  must  be  very  terrible  !  The  Saviour's  words  in  His  sense  of  loneli- 
ness amidst  the  crowd  and  even  amidst  His  own  disciples,  will  be  full  of 
meaning  to  you,  '  I  am  not  alone,  for  the  Father  is  with  me  !' — but  for  that, 
the  universe  would  have  been  a  wilderness  to  His  heart.  Our  human  hands 
are  too  coarse  to  meddle  with  the  fine  network  of  the  spirit.  We  break 
and  confuse  oftener  than  we  harmonize  and  heal.  But  He  can  do  it !  and 
with  what  wisdom,  patience,  tenderness  and  holy  love  !  Oh,  what  a  mock- 
ery it  would  be  if  our  social  life  in  Christ  ended  here  !  It  hardly  begins 
here.  Very  soon  you  and  your  sister  will  meet,  and  when  you  talk  over 
old  times,  you  may  be  able  to  praise  and  bless  God  for  this  time,  now  so 
dark  and  trying.  Most  certain  it  is  that  God  by  such  trials,  when  we  wait 
on  Him,  trust  Him  and  seek  His  kingdom,  will  purify  us,  and  make  us  in- 
struments more  fit  to  glorify  Him." 

"June  3,  1861. 

"  My  beloved  Parents, — 

"  Few  men  are  able  to  begin  a  note  with  such  words  when  enter- 
ing their  fiftieth  year  !  I  owe  it  to  God  to  acknowledge  that  one  of  the 
greatest  mercies  in  a  life  which  has  been  one  continued  mercy,  has  been  to 
possess  such  parents,  and  that  they  have  been  spared  to  journey  with  me 
through  the  wilderness  for  nearly  half  a  century,  and  that  their  presence 
has  always  been  a  constant  light  of  love  which  never  once  flickered.  Most 
deeply  do  I  appreciate  the  inestimable  blessing  thus  bestowed  on  me  and  on 
their  children's  children. 

"  It  is  not  likely  that  if  I  am  spared  to  see  another  decade  of  my  life,  I 
shall  have  both  or  either  of  you  to  address.  But  oh  !  the  mercy  of  enter- 
ing old  age  with  one's  parents  still  alive,  and  then  to  pass  from  old  age  to 
eternal  youth  in  the  good  hope  of  meeting  them  again  forever. 

"  If  my  birthdays  now  are  more  sobered  than  they  were  in  early  youth 
they  are  far  more  joyful.  I  every  year  bless  God  with  a  fuller  heart  that 
I  exist  and  have  lived  in  such  an  atmosphere  of  earthly  love.  Let  me  have 
your  last,  as  I  have  had  your  early  prayers,  that  I  may  fulfil  my  calling, 
and  that,  as  a  man  with  innumerable  shortcomings,  I  may  prove  in  the  main 
true  and  loyal  to  the  best  of  Masters. 

"  Full  of  awe  and  thanksgivings  for  my  mercies  and  full  of  love  to  you 
both, 

I  am  your  devoted  and  affectionate  first-born." 


a 


To  J.  M.  Ludlow,  Esq. :—  august,  1861. 

"  Comfort  me  by  scolding  me.     Your  genuine  goodness,  forbearance,  and 


278  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

forgiving-heartedness,  give  me  positive  pain  and  make  me  hate  myself, 
which  is  not  comfortable.  Out  upon  public  life,  magazines,  and  all  articles  ! 
'  I  would  I  were  a  weaver  !' 

"  But  I  really  had  not  another  day  in  London  to  see  you.  I  was  worried 
to  death  by  Dowagers  and  Dogmatics. 

"  You  know  why  the  town  clerk  of  Dunfermline  called  the  Provost  dog- 
matic  1  Because  the  '  bodie  got  so  cross  in  an  argument  about  a  Bible 
doctrine,  that  he  bited  my  thoombf 

"A  thousand  thanks  for  your  kindness  in  not  'biting  my  thoomb,'  but 
giving  me  your  hand. 

"  A.s  to  the  new  Magazine,  I  have  nothing  whatever  to  say  against  any 
other  craft  trying  to  cross  the  wide  ocean  along  with  my  own.  There  is 
room  for  all.  I  buy  two  or  three  penny  papers  now  instead  of  one.  So  is 
it  with  cheap  magazines,  if  good. 

"  My  calling  is  the  gospel,  to  give  myself  wholly  to  it,  as  I  know  it  and 
believe  it.  For  this  I  live,  and  for  this  I  could  die.  Therefore  so  long  as 
I  have  Good  Words  there  shall  be  'preaching'  in  it,  direct  or  indirect,  and 
no  shame,  or  sham,  about  it.  This,  along  with  my  secularity,  will  keep  it, 
so  far,  distinct  from  other  periodicals. 

"  The  sin  of  my  articles  is  in  what  they  do  not  say.  '  Wee  Davie,'  poor 
little  fellow !  leaves  out  several  doctrines.  They  say  that  the  expression, 
'Rest  her  soul  in  peace!'  is  so  Popish,  being  a  prayer  for  the  dead,  that  it  is 
'most  dangerous.' 

"  I  have  published,  with  many  corrections,  my  sermon  (not  story)  of  Wee 
Davie,  and  12,000  sold  in  a  week.  It  is  intended  for  the  working-men  of 
Scotland  chiefly." 

To  the  Rev.  W.  F.  Stevenson  : — 

"  TiGH-NA-BRUAcn,  Kyles  of  Bute,  August  14,  18G1. 

"  I  must  try  a  volume  of  addresses  to  the  working  classes,  or  '  Barony 
Sermons.'*  The  spirit  and  teaching  of  the  Magazine  form  a  constant  sub- 
ject of  anxiety.  I  want  to  intone  all  its  services  more  with  the  direct  Chris- 
tian spirit,  and  shall  do  so,  or  give  it  up. 

"  As  to  Ned,  the  story  is  a  serious  affair  with  me.  I  wish  to  show  the 
Christian  life  working  in  a  boy  placed  in  rather  trying  circumstances,  and 
becoming  stronger  through  falls  and  trials — to  illustrate,  in  short,  a  life 
begun,  like  that  of  many,  in  the  secret  recesses  of  early  life,  and  disciplined 
by  Christ  through  a  long  course  of  years.  I  don't  find  the  process,  as 
described  in  most  'evangelical'  tracts,  by  which  many  men  become  at  iast 
strong  in  Christ,  to  be  true,  to  life  as  I  see  it,  so  that  good  boys  in  tracts  are 
not  like  those  I  have  ever  met  with — Ned  is.  Along  with  this  I  wish  to 
excite  interest  in  sailors,  and  to  preach  the  gospel  to  those  also  who  may 
hear  for  the  sake  of  the  story.  I  cannot  think  that  I  shall  utterly  fail,  or 
injure  the  cause  dearer  to  me  than  life  itself,  when  I  know  that  I  have  only 
truth  in  view,  and  daily  pray  to  Christ  to  guide  me.  Oh  !  my  dear  friend, 
from  my  heart  I  say  it,  I  would  sooner  die  than  consciously  injure  that 
cause  by  anything  I  write,  should  it  gain  me  the  fame  of  the  greatest  names 
in  literature  !  As  a  literary  production  Ned  is  a  two-penny  affair,  but  I  am 
encouraged  to  write  it  as  a  medium  of  preaching  Christ." 

*  Afterwards  published  under  the  title,  "Simple  Truths." 


1860—61.  279 

To  the  Same  • — 

"Novembers,  1801. 

"  I  sincerely  thank  you  for  your  criticisms  on  Ned.  I  accept  what  you 
say  about  the  humanity  of  the  story.  I  wished  to  draw  men  towards  me  on 
the  human  ground,  that  so  they  might  go  up  higher  with  me  towards  super- 
human good.  The  story  points  to  that  direction.  The  hands  of  Esau  may 
lead  wild  men  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  Jacob." 

To  Colonel  Dreghorn  (in  answer  to  a  letter  reminding  him  of  a  promise  to  preach  a 
sermon  for  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals): — 

"Glasgow,  1861. 

"I  beseech  you  to  have  mercy  on  me  as  an  animal,  and  get  some  other 
brute,  equally  willing  and  more  able  than  I  am,  to  preach  your  sermon.  I 
have  seven  sermons  to  preach  for  collections  in  other  churches  before  Janu- 
ary— and  I  am  engaged  three  times  every  Sunday  till  April — besides  tons  of 
other  work  on  my  back.  I  ask  mercy  with  the  donkey,  dog,  or  carter's 
horse.  My  burthen  is  heavier  than  I  can  bear.  Let  the  deputy  chairman 
spare  his  lash.     I  have  no  power  to  bite  or  kick,  I  can  only  groan. 

"  I'll  feed  the  next  starved  dog  handsomely,  shelter  for  a  week  the  first 
wandering  cat  I  meet,  even  put  my  shoulder  to  the  next  overloaded  cart  of 
coal  or  iron  I  see.  I'll  listen  for  two  hours  to  'David  Bell.'  I'll  do  any 
deed  of  mei-cy  laid  upon  me  that  I  am  fit  for,  if  you  spare  my  back  while 
editor  of  Good  Words.  In  the  name  of  every  hard-used  brute,  lay  or  clerical, 
animal  or  spiritual,  I  crave  your  mercy. 

"  Yours  in  trouble." 

In  answer  to  Colonel  Dreghorn 's  repeated  request : — 

"1861. 

'•'Absence  in  Edinburgh  along  with  the  off-putting  of  the  flesh,  has  pre- 
vented me  from  replying  to  your  note.  I  shall  honestly  try  to  be  with  you 
if  possible  before  the  meeting  is  over  to  say  a  few  good  words  for  my  brother 
donkeys,  and  all  animals  who  like  myself  are  too  severely  handled  and 
cudgelled  by  the  public.     In  such  suffering  you  will,  I  know,  sympathise." 

To  Mrs.  MACLEOD : — 

"Monaltrie,  September  9,  1861. 

"Dear  kind  Mrs.  Fuller  Maitland  drove  me  to  Crathie  on  Saturday. 
The  Manse  was  full,  i.e.,  the  minister,  with  a  son  and  two  grown-up  daugh 
ters,  a  lady  from  England  with  grown  up  son  and  daughter,  a  gentleman 
from  Edinburgh,  and  myself.  How  were  they  put  up?  The  walls  know.  I 
don't.  But  as  I  always  say,  no  Manse  was  ever  so  full,  but  that  (like  a 
'bus)  one  more  could  be  taken  in.  I  preached — by  no  means  comfortably 
to  myself.  I  could  not  remember  one  sentence  (literally)  and  had  to  trust 
to  the  moment  for  expression.  Lord  John  Russell  there.  But  the  Queen 
was  most  cordial  in  her  thanks  for  the  comfort  I  gave  her,  and  commanded 
me  to  return  next  year.  So  I  must  indulge  the  hope  that  it  was  blessed 
far  more  than  I  could  believe,  judging  from  my  own  feeling.  I  preached 
in  the  evening  for  Anderson.  I  dined  at  the  Castle,  and  spent  really  a 
charming  evening.     I  had  a  long  walk  with  Lady  Augusta  Bruce  during 


280  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

the  interval,  and  learned  much  from  her  about  the  death  of  that  noble,  lov- 
ing woman,  the  Duchess  of  Kent,  and  of  the  Queen's  grief.  She  was  a  most 
God-fearing  woman.  I  have  been  presented  by  the  Queen  with  a  delightful 
volume  of  hymns  which  her  mother  was  fond  of.  The  Queen's  distress  was 
deep  on  1  very  bitter,  but  in  every  respect  such  as  a  daughter  ought  to  feel. 
The  suddenness — unexpected  by  even  Sir  J.  Clarke — of  course  shocked  her. 
At  dinner  were  present  Princess  Alice  and  her  fiance,  Prince  Louis  of 
Hesse,  Princess  Hohenlohe,  the  Queen's  half-sister — an  admirable  woman. 
I  sat  beside  Prince  Alfred,  a  fine,  gentlemanly  sailor.  We  had  lots  of  talk. 
After  dinner  I  had  a  most  interesting  conversation,  about  half  an  hour, 
with  the  Prince  Consort,  and  a  good  long  one  with  the  Queen.  In  short  it 
was  a  most  agreeable  evening." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"Last  night  of  1861. — The  happiest  time  I  have  had  yet  at  Balmoral  was 
this  last  with  the  dear  good  Prince,  whom  I  truly  mourn. 

"  The  death  !  What  an  event  for  the  nation  !  I  have  received  a  letter 
from  Lady  Augusta  Bruce,  which  is  very  delightful,  although  sad." 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

1862— G3. 

HIS  theological  views  were  gradually  expanding  into  a  more 
spiritual  and  living  apppreliension  of  the  purpose  of  God  in 
Christ.  The  character  of  God  as  a  Father  had  always  been  the  central 
article  of  his  creed,  but  there  were  wider  applications  of  it  into  which 
his  keen  sympathies  were  constantly  leading  him.  The  subject  of  the 
atonement  of  Christ  much  engrossed  his  thoughts,  and  although  he  had 
been  long  familiar  with  the  views  held  on  that  subject  by  his  cousin, 
Dr.  J.  Macleod  Campbell,  he  now  found  in  them  new  meaning  and 
adopted  them  more  fully.  "  As  far  as  it  goes,  his  teaching  seems  to 
shed  a  light  on  the  nature  of  Christ's  sufferings,  which  cannot  pass 
away,  because  springing  out  of  the  eternal  nature  of  things."  He  may 
afterwards  have  diverged,  in  regard  to  some  minor  points,  from  what 
Campbell  taught  him,  but  he  certainly  never  recurred  to  the  concep- 
tion of  the  sufferings  of  our  Lord  as  penal,  or  to  those  notions  of  the 
nature  of  salvation  which  it  involves.  Feeling  that  fresh  light  had 
been  shed  on  the  purpose  of  God  in  Christ  he  advanced  hopefully  into 
new  regions  of  thought. 

From  his  Journal  :— 

"April  20,  Sunday. — I  am  confined  to  the  house  by  bronchitis,  and  enjoy 
deeply  and  thankfully  this  blessed  calm,  this  holy  rest.  What  a  gift  from 
God  is  this  holy  day  !  I  thank  God  that  during  these  last  few  years  I  enjoy 
the  pulpit  more  and  more,  and  find  it  a  rest  to  my  spirit  in  proportion  as  I 
seek  in  the  bonds  of  Christ's  love  to  do  good,  and  to  make  others  partakers 
of  the  rest  in  Him.  I  have  been  seldom  in  life  so  exercised  in  spirit  as 
during  the  Sundays  which  preceded  the  communion  and  on  the  communion 
Sunday  itself,  in  preaching  on  the  Atonement,  according  to  the  view  taken 
of  it  by  my  beloved  John  Campbell.  As  far  as  I  am  capable  of  knowing 
myself,  I  can  declare  before  Him  who  knows  me  truly,  that  I  sought  by 
earnest  prayer,  patient  reading,  and  meditation,  to  know  God's  revealed 
will  with  reference  to  Christ's  work.  It  has  been  a  subject  which  has  more 
or  less  occupied  my  thoughts  for  years,  and  I  never  allowed  myself,  I  think, 
to  be  carried  away  by  mere  outward  authority,  but  sought  to  see  it  and  so 
to  possess  it;  for  seeing  (spiritually)  is  believing.  I  therefore  always 
preached  what  I  saw  and  believed  j  and  I  never  did  see  the  truth  as  John 


1282  LIFE  OF  NOllMAN  MACLEOD 

Campbell  sees  it  until  lately.  I  believed,  and  still  believe,  tliat  what  Jesus 
did  as  an  atoning  Saviour,  He  did  for  all,  because  God  commands  all  men  to 
believe  in  Him  as  their  Saviour,  and  because  He  necessarily  desires  ail  men 
to  be  saved,  i.e.,  to  be  holy  like  Himself.  But  what  I  never  could  see  was 
the  philosophy  of  the  atonement,  or  that  element  in  Christ's  work  which 
constituted  the  atonement.  The  usual  method  of  explaining  it  (commonly 
called  'the  Battle  of  the  Attributes'),  as  penal  suffering  from  God's  wrath, 
and  so  satisfying  divine  justice,  I  could  not  contradict,  but  could  not  see 
and  rejoice  in  as  true.  So  I  was  disposed  to  allow  the  whole  thing  to  remain 
a  mystery — a  fact,  revealed  as  the  ground  of  certain  blessings  which  I  felt  I 
needed  and  thankfully  received,  but  without  any  necessary  connection  being 
seen  between  what  Christ  did  and  what  I  received.  But,  thank  God,  this 
is  dawning  on  me,  and  what  I  see  now  can  never,  I  think,  be  taken  from 
me,  for  conscience  has  its  (moral)  mathematics  as  well  as  the  reason." 

He  was  at  this  time  engaged  in  preparing  the  "  Old  Lieutenant," 
for  republication  in  a  separate  form.  He  was  quite  aware  of  the 
defective  structure  of  the  story,  but  he  was  certainly  disappointed 
when  some  of  the  reviews,  whose  criticisms  he  most  respected,  failed 
to  discover  its  aim  and  to  recognize  in  its  characters  portraits  from 
real  life.  Indeed,  so  disheartened  was  he  by  the  reception  of  his  first 
serious  attempt  in  the  domain  of  fiction,  that,  for  a  while,  he  was 
resolved  it  should  be  the  last. 

To  J.  M.  Ludlow,  Esq.  : — 

"  May,  1862. 

"What  I  should  like  you  to  do  with  my  '  Old  Lieutenant'  would  be — (1) 
to  correct  the  Scotch  or  Scotticisms,  for  I  never  was  taught  English  ;  (2)  to 
dx-aw  your  pen  through  any  sentence  or  expression  you  think  better  out  than 
in.  As  for  the  '  'igh  hart,'  it  must  remain  in  nubibus,  as  '  low  hart '  is  my 
line.  I  know  I  am  getting  into  a  fearful  mess  among  the  critics  for  pub- 
lishing it. 

"  I  know  the  book  has  no  art  in  its  plot,  for  alas  !  I  had  to  write  it  from 
month  to  month,  always  thinking  the  next  month  would  end  it.  It  is  besides 
absurd  to  write  a  story,  as  I  intentionally  did,  for  the  preaching  in  it,  in- 
stead of  preaching  by  it.  But  I  know  the  characters  are  genuine,  and  true 
to  nature,  for  they  were  all  as  living  beings  who  possessed  me,  and  there  is 
not  one  that  does  not  stand  on  his  own  legs  as  real  flesh  and  blood.  I  deny 
with  my  whole  soul  and  strength  that  the  teaching  is  unhealthy.  It  is  not 
true  that  whatever  man  asks  for  in  prayer  he  gets  in  the  form  in  which  he 
asks  it.  The  reviewer  does  not  trust  in  God  as  I  do.  I  mean  by  this,  a 
trust  in  God  for  whatever  God  gives.  He  seems  to  think  that  it  is  trust 
for  some  specific  blessing.  And  what  did  poor  Ned  ever  get,  except  his 
wife?  I  tried  to  picture  a  lad  neither  a  muff"  nor  a  Methodist — a  good, 
honest  fellow,  trained  up  sensibly  and  living  honestly,  and  as  any  young  man 
may  live,  and  as  many  do.  But  nowadays,  it  seems,  young  men  must  be  either 
blackguards,  or  perfect  saints.  I  will  maintain  that  it  is  a  picture  of 
real  life,  though  not  perhaps  of  London  life,  with  its  spasms.  And  the  critic 
says  I  don't  know  the  sea!  I  wish  I  met  him  on  some  deck.  The  funny 
thing  is  that  the  Examiner  of  Sea  Captains  in  Liverpool  was  so  astonished 


1SG3— G3.  283 

at  my  knowledge  of  the  sea  that  he  begged  to  know  how  I  got  it,  or  if  a 
seaman  had  written  the  sea  parts  for  me.  If  I  know  anything,  I  know 
about  a  ship." 

To  the  Rev.  W.  F.  Stevenson  : — 

''October  20,  18G2. 

"  I  am  pretty  well  convinced,  from  the  reviews  received  to-day  of  '  Old 
Lieutenant'  in  the  London  Review  and  Spectator,  that  I  am  not  able  to  be  of 
use  in  that  line.  The  book  is  killed  and  buried  for  ever,  though  self-lovo 
makes  me  think  it  cannot  be  so  bad  as  they  make  it.  I  shall,  in  the  mean- 
time, get  what  good  I  can  to  my  own  spirit  by  the  reviews,  and  learn  to 
seek  quiet  and  peace  more  in  that  still  region  of  labour  before  God  which 
earth  cannot  disturb." 

The  Queen  had  now  come  to  Scotland  for  the  first  time  since  the 
death  of  the  Prince  Consort,  and  Dr.  Macleod  was  summoned  to 
Balmoral.  He  had  been  profoundly  moved  by  the  death  of  the  Prince, 
whom  he  had  regarded  as  "an  ideal  of  all  that  is  pure,  truthful,  unselfish 
and  wise ;"  and  from  the  confidence  with  which  he  had  been  honoured 
by  his  Sovereign,  he  was  able  deeply  to  sympathize  with  her  in  her 
grief. 

Although  his  journals  contain  many  interesting  accounts  of  his 
different  visits  at  Court  and  to  members  of  the  Eoyal  family,  it  is  in 
harmony  with  the  reticence  he  always  observed  to  give  only  such 
extracts  as  may  indicate  the  confidence  reposed  in  him,  and  the  loyalty 
of  his  services. 

He  aver  recognised  the  grave  responsibility  which  these  duties 
entailed.  "  When  I  think  how  the  character  of  princes  affects  the 
history  of  the  world,  and  how  that  character  may  possibly  be  affected 
by  what  I  say,  and  by  the  spirit  in  which  I  speak  and  act,  I  feel  the 
work  laid  upon  me  to  be  very  solemn." 

"  Your  Eoyal  Highness  knows,"  he  said  to  a  younger  member  of  the 
family,  whom  he  was  endeavouring  to  comfort  after  the  death  of  the 
Prince,  "  that  I  am  here  as  a  pastor,  and  that  it  is  only  as  a  pastor  I  am 
permitted  to  address  you.  But  as  I  wish  you  to  thank  me  when  we 
meet  before  God,  so  would  I  address  you  now." 

"  I  am  never  tempted,"  he  writes,  "  to  conceal  any  conviction  from 
the  Queen,  for  I  feel  she  sympathizes  with  what  is  true,  and  likes  the 
speaker  to  utter  the  truth  exactly  as  he  believes  it." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  May  8,  1862. — I  am  commanded  by  the  Queen  to  visit  at  Balmoral 
from  Saturday  till  Tuesday. 

"  Few  things  could  oe  more  trying  to  me  than,  in  present  circumstances, 
to  meet  my  afflicted  Sovereign  face  to  face.  But  God,  who  calls  me,  will  aid 
me.  My  hope  is  in  Him,  and  He  will  not  put  me  to  shame.  May  He 
guide  me  to  speak  to  her  fitting  truth  as  to  an  immortal  being,  a  sister  in 
humanity,  a  Queen  with  heavy,  heavy  trials   to  endure,  and  such  duties  to 


284  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

perform  !  May  I  be  kept  in  a  right  spirit,  loving,  peaceful,  truthful,  wise, 
and  sympathizing,  carrying  the  burden  of  her  who  is  my  sister  in  Christ  and 
my  Sovereign.  Father  !   Speak  by  me  !" 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"Balmoral,  May  12,  1S62. 

"  You  will  return  thanks  with  me  to  our  Father  in  Heaven  for  His  mercy 
and  goodness  in  having  hitherto  most  surely  guided  me  during  this  time 
which  I  felt  to  be  a  most  solemn  and  important  era  in  my  life.  All  has 
passed  well — that  is  to  say,  God  enabled  me  to  speak  in  private  and  in 
public  to  the  Queen  in  such  a  way  as  seemed  to  me  to  be  truth,  the  truth  in 
God's  sight:  that  which  I  believed  she  needed,  though  I  felt  it  would  be 
very  trying  to  her  spirit  to  receive  it.  And  what  fills  me  with  deepest 
thanksgiving  is,  that  she  has  received  it,  and  written  to  me  such  a  kind 
tender  letter  of  thanks  for  it,  which  shall  be  treasured  in  my  heart  while  I 
live. 

"  Prince  Alfred  sent  for  me  last  night  to  see  him  before  going  away. 
Thank  God  I  spoke  fully  and  frankly  to  him — we  were  alone — of  his  diffi- 
culties, temptations,  and  of  his  father's  example  ;  what  the  nation  expected 
of  him  ;  how,  if  he  did  God's  will,  good  and  able  men  would  rally  round 
him ;  how.  if  he  became  selfish,  a  selfish  set  of  flatterers  would  truckle  to 
him  and  ruin  him,  while  caring  only  for  the  mselves.  He  thanked  me  for 
all  I  said,  and  wished  me  to  travel  with  him  to-day  to  Aberdeen,  but  the 
Queen  wishes  to  see  me  again.  I  am  so  thankful  to  have  the  Duke  of 
Argyll  and  my  dear  friend  Lady  Augusta  Bruce  here.  The  Duchess  of 
Athole  also — a  most  delightful,  real  woman." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  May  lith. — Let  me,  if  possible,  recall  some  of  the  incidents  of  these  few 
days  at  Balmoral,  which  in  after  years  I  may  read  with  interest,  when 
memory  grows  dim 

"  After  dinner  I  was  summoned  unexpectedly  to  the  Queen's  room.  She 
was  alone.  She  met  me,  and  with  an  unutterably  sad  expression  which 
filled  my  eyes  with  tears,  at  once  began  to  speak  about  the  Prince.  It  is 
impossible  for  me  to  recall  distinctly  the  sequence  or  substance  of  that  long 
conversation.  She  spoke  of  his  excellencies — his  love,  his  cheerfulness,  how 
he  was  everything  to  her ;  how  all  now  on  earth  seemed  dead  to  her.  She 
said  she  never  shut  her  eyes  to  trial,  but  liked  to  look  them  in  the  face ; 
how  she  would  never  shrink  from  duty,  but  that  all  was  at  present  done 
mechanically ;  that  her  highest  ideas  of  purity  and  love  were  obtained  from 
him,  and  that  God  could  not  be  displeased  with  her  love.  But  there  was 
nothing  morbid  in  her  grief.  I  spoke  freely  to  her  about  all  I  felt  regarding 
him — the  love  of  the  nation  and  their  sympathy ;  and  took  every  opportunity 
of  bringing  before  her  the  reality  of  God's  love  and  sympathy,  her  noble 
calling  as  a  Queen,  the  value  of  her  life  to  the  nation,  the  blessedness  of 
prayer. 

"  Sunday ,the  whole  household,  Queen,  and  Royal  Family  were  assembled 
at  10.15.  A  temporary  pulpit  was  erected.  I  began  with  a  short  prayer, 
then  read  Job  xxiii.,  Psalm  xlii.,  beginning  and  end  of  John  xiv.  and 
end  of  Revelations  vii.     After  the  Lord's  Prayer  I  expounded  Hebrews 


1862—i;:;.  285 

xi\  1-12,  and  concluded  with  prayer.  The  whole  service  was  less  than  an 
hour.  I  then  at  12  preached  at  Crathie  on  'All  things  arc  ours.'  In  the 
evening  at  Crathie  on  '  Awake  thou  that  sleepest.'  The  household  attended 
both  services. 

"  On  Monday  I  had  another  long  interview  with  the  Queen.  She  was 
much  more  like  her  old  self — cheerful,  and  full  of  talk  about  persons  and 
things.  She  of  course  spoke  of  the  Prince.  She  said  that  he  always  be- 
lieved he  was  to  die  soon,  and  that  he  often  told  her  that  he  had  never  any 
fear  of  death. 

"I  saw  also  the  Princesses  Alice  and  Helena;  each  by  herself. 

"  No  words  of  mine  can  express  the  deep  sympathy  I  have  for  these 
mourner's.  From  my  soul  I  shall  ever  pray  for  them  that  God  would  make 
them  His  own  dear  children. 

"  What  a  drive  we  had  on  Monday  up  to  the  falls  of  the  Garbhalt !  The 
great  pines,  the  mossy  flooring  of  the  woods,  the  pure  streams,  the  herds  of 
deer,  the  awful  purple  of  the  hills,  the  white  snow  on  their  tops,  the  en- 
amelled grass  so  characteristic  of  this  season,  the  marvellous  lights  ?  Oh 
what  a  glorious  revelation  of  God.     I  returned  yesterday  full  of  praise. 

4i  The  more  I  learn  about  the  Prince  Consort,  the  more  I  agree  with  what 
the  Queen  said  to  me  about  him  on  Monday,  '  that  he  really  did  not  seem 
to  comprehend  a  selfish  character,  or  what  selfishness  wras.'  And  on  what- 
ever day  his  public  life  is  revealed  to  the  world,  I  feel  certain  this  will  be 
recognized. 

"  Dr.  Becker,  to  whom  I  was  complaining  of  Humboldt's  treatment  of 
the  Piince,  told  me  that  the  only  thing  the  Prince  said  or  wTrote  about  it  to 
him  was,  '  I  am  sorry  for  poor  Humboldt.'  He  felt  that  such  things  in- 
jured one  whom  he  so  much  loved  and  admired." 

At  the  end  of  May,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Macleod  and  his  brother 
Donald,  he  took  a  six  weeks'  tour  in  Italy,  crossing  Mont  Cenis  to 
Turin,  and  thence  by  Genoa  and  the  Eiviera  to  Florence,  Bologna, 
Venice,  Milan,  and  the  Italian  Lakes,  and  returning  home  by  Cour- 
mayeur,  the  Great  St.  Bernard  and  Basle,  His  impressions  of  Italy 
were  afterwards  recorded  in  Good  Wo7*cls* 

To  his  Father  : — 

"  Florence,  June  3,  1862. 

"  It  would  take  months  of  patient  study  to  get  even  a  general  idea  of  the 
g'ories  of  ai-t  in  Florence  ;  we  have  not  a  shadow  of  an  idea  in  Scotland  of 
what  art  is.  In  this  respect  it  is  a  barbarous  country ;  yet,  in  a  better 
respect,  it  is  as  heaven  to  this.     I  wish  you  saw  Popery  here  to  loathe  it. 

"I  preached  last  Sunday.  Protestantism  hardly  exists.  Little  is  doing 
or  can  be  done.  God  alone  can  help  this  wretched  country.  How  I  know 
not,  nor  can  see.     All  is  beautiful  and  grand,  but  man  and  his  morals." 

To  his  Father  and  Mother  : — 

"Lake  Maggiore,  Sunday,  June  15. 

"  The  two  places  I  enjoyed  most  wTere  Yenice  and  two  days'  rest  at  Bel- 
laggio,  on  the  Lake  of  Como.    The  beauty  is  really  inconceivable.    For  wild 


#  <i 


Rambling  Notes  of  a  Pv,amble  in  Itafr." — Good  Words,   1862. 


286  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

and  majestic  grandeur  I  admire  our  own  Highlands  most,  but  for  surpass- 
ing and  majestic  beauty,  this. 

"  I  preached  in  the  Ileckla  steamer  to  the  Jack  Tars  on  Sunday  last. 
Campsie  men  and  Glasgow  men  were  on  board.  It  was  a  pleasant  day. 
The  glory  of  Venice  cannot  be  imagined. 

"  Bccveno,  Sunday  evening. — We  crossed  the  lake  to-day,  and  have  had  a 
nice  service.  I  read  the  Liturgy  and  preached.  We  had  a  delightful 
walk  through  the  vineyards,  and  enjoyed  the  snowy  Alps  in  the  distance." 

To  A.  Stbahajt,  Esq. : —  "  Monastery  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard, 

Jane '11,  1862. 

"  Ere  I  bid  farewell  to  the  world,  I  wish  to  bid  farewell  to  thee.  I  have 
resolved  to  join  the  Brothers  of  St.  Bernard.  All  is  arranged.  I  find  that 
they  never  heard  of  Presbyterianism,  Free,  or  U.  P.  Kirk  ;  know  nothing 

even  of  Dr. or  Dr. ,  and  have  kept  up  service  here,  helping  the 

poor  and  needy,  for  800  years.  I  find  I  can  live  here  for  nothing,  never 
preach,  but  only  chant  Latin  prayers  ;  that  they  never  attend  public  meet- 
ings, never  go  to  Exeter  Hall,  nor  to  a  General  Assembly,  but  attend  to  the 
big  dogs  and  the  travellei's  of  all  nations.  In  short,  it  is  the  very  place  for 
me,  and  I  have  craved  admission,  and  hope  to  be  received  to-night.  I  shall 
be  known  henceforth  as  Prater  Flemingus.  (I  think  I  owe  it  to  the  Cap- 
tain to  adopt  his  name.)  My  wife  goes  to  a  nunnery  ;  I  leave  my  children 
to  your  care — 3i  to  you  and  3|  to  Isbister.  Farewell,  best  of  men  and  of 
publishers  !  Farewell,  Isbister.  best  of  men  and  of  smokers.  Farewell, 
Good  Words  !  Farewell,  the  world  and  all  its  vanities  1 I  was  inter- 
rupted at  this  point  by  a  procession  of  monks,  who  came  to  strip  me  of  my 
worldly  garments,  and  to  prescribe  the  vows.  Before  changing  garments, 
I  enquired  about  the  vows.  Judge  of  my  amazement  in  finding  I  must  re- 
nounce cigars  for  ever  !     I  pause 

"  P.S. — 2  a.m.,  22nd. — The  monks  won't  give  in.  The  weather  is  fear- 
fully cold.      No  fires  in  the  cells.     The  dogs  are  mangy. 

"  3  a.m. — I  am  half-dead  with  cold.  I  shan't  lie  in  the  morgue.  I  re- 
pent ! 

"  6  a.m.— Off  for  London  !     Hurrah  !  " 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  :  — 

"August  IS,  1862. 

"  I  had  a  delightful  visit  from  Stanley.  He  is  a  noble  specimen  of  the 
Christian  gentleman  and  scholar.  When  I  come  into  close  contact  with  such 
men  as  he,  John  Campbell,  Erskine,  Scott,  Maui  ice,  Davies,  Ludlow,  Hughes, 
I  feel  how  I  could  enjoy  heaven  with  them.  Whether  it  is  my  defect  or 
theiis  I  know  not,  but  the  narrow,  exclusive,  hard  hyper-Calvinistic  schools 
repel  ms,  and  make  me  nervously  unhappy.  I  cry  to  God  daily  for  humility 
to  love  all,  and  to  feel  that  I  am  saved  as  a  sinner  who,  as  such,  must  have 
disgusted  the  angels.  Our  pride  is  devilish,  and  when  I  know  how  much 
better  many  of  those  who  repel  me  aie  than  I  am,  or  even  have  been,  I  am 
ashamed  of  my  pride,  and  that  I  cannot  clasp  them  to  my  heart.  I  should 
despair,  unless  I  believed  that  Jesus  Christ  can  and  will  deliver  me,  and 
give  me  to  enjoy  the  unspeakable  heaven  of  being  a  humble,  meek  child 
without  my  knowing  it,  but  simply  being  it,  loving  it,  so  that  by  the  super- 
natural I  may  become  natural,  for  sin  in  every  form  is  so  wnnatural. 


& 


1862—63.  287 

"  I  never  had  a  happier  day  than  yesterday.  I  preached  on  the  first  two 
parables  of  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  Luke,  and  felt  so  strong  and  happy  in 
preaching.  The  highest  conceivable  enjoyment  is  to  preach,  even  in  a 
small  degree,  in  sympathy  with  Christ — to  feel  that  He  is  with  us,  to  speak 
what  you  know  is  right,  and  in  the  right  spirit  of  good-will  and  unselfish 
love.  I  believe  that  God  will  help  our  India  Mission,  and  bless  us  as  a 
congregation  by  somehow  connecting  us  with  this  work. 

"  I  have  the  most  intense  desire  to  spend  the  next  ten  years  of  ray  life,  ii 
these  are  given  me,  more  earnestly  than  I  have  ever  clone.  At  sixty  I  shall 
be  unfit  for  active  work.  Whatever  I  can  write  for  the  good  of  my  fellow- 
men  must  be  done  in  this  time.  It  is  a  glorious  gift,  and  by  the  help  of  the 
Almighty  I  may  yet  overcome  the  bad  habits  of  sloth  and  want  of  method  " 

To  the  Eev.  W.  F.  Stevenson  : —  "October  4,  1862. 

"Thanks  for  your  delightful  volume.*  No  Presbyterian  has  written 
before  in  such  a  catholic  spirit ;  and  this  I  feel  to  be  a  great  want  of  our 
Church.  We  ignore  sixteen  centuries  almost ;  we  dig  deeper  and  deep- 
er the  trenches,— which  genial  Nature  was  kindly  filling  up  with  sweet 
flowers, — to  keep  up  the  old  division  lines,  instead  of  building  bridges  to 
connect  us  as  far  as  possible  with  the  Church  Catholic.  Judaical  separation 
won't  do,  far  less  Pharisaical.  The  only  separation  which  is  good  is  that  of 
greater  praying  and  working,  which,  like  true  love,  is  at  once  the  most 
separating  and  most  uniting  element.  The  '  Stand  back,  I  am  holier  than 
thou,'  must  be  exchanged  for  the  'Come  near,  for  I  am  holier  than  thou 
through  grace,  which  is  thine  as  well  as  mine,  and  mine  too  for  thee.'  God 
bless  your  book !" 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Nov.  3. — I  this  day  begin  my  winter's  work.  I  am  persuaded  that  God 
is  shutting  me  up  in  His  providence  to  a  deeper,  inner  mission  in  my  own 
spirit  and  in  my  parish.  What  I  am  longing  to  obtain  is  more  of  the 
glory  and  blessedness  of  love  and  humility.  Humility  towards  God  and 
man  would  be  heaven.  I  have  been  greatly  quickened  to  aim  at  this  by 
Vinet's  noble  sermon  on  '  Submitting  one  to  another,'  and  '  Lifting  up  holy 
hands.'  There  is  no  sermon-writer  who  masters  me  as  he  does — so  search- 
ing, so  faithful,  so  discriminating  and  holy.  I  feel  now  that  the  rest  of  my 
life  will  be  nobly  spent  if  I  can  only,  by  the  constant  help  of  Almighty 
grace,  seek  daily  to  go  out  of  myself  in  love  to  God  and  man,  showing  it  by 
patience,  silence,  sympathy,  forbearance — the  esteeming  others  better  than 
myself — honouring  them,  submitting  to  them,  being  nobody,  and  my  brother 
all-in-all  to  me. 

"  My  proposed  work  will  be  : — 

"  Regular  visitation  of  the  sick  and  aged,  and  weekly  visits  of  communi- 
cants. 

"  Careful  preparation  of  lectures,  sermons,  and  prayers. 

"  Thursday  evening  prayer  meetings. 

"  Weekly  district  meetings. 

"  Visit  the  Workhouse  and,  if  possible,  the  Hospital. 

"  With  God's  help,  I  should  like  to  rise  at  half-past  five.  Spend  half-an- 
hour  at  least  in  devotion.  Write  till  9.  Keep  Friday  and  Saturday 
exclusively  for  pulpit. 

*  "Praying  an<3  Working." 


258  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  Wednesday  night,  district ;  Thursday,  7  to  8,  people  in  vestry  ;  8,  meet- 
ing.    Monday,  sick  and  sorrowing.     Tuesday  and  Thursday,  visitation. 

"  Tuesday,  Nov.  25. — My  beloved  father  died  this  morning,  between  one 
and  two,  in  his  seventy-ninth  year.  We  have  lost  as  loving  a  father  as  ever 
blessed  a  family. 

"  God  has  called  him,  and  spared  my  beloved  mother. 

"I  defer  writing  anything  about  his  death." 

"  26th  April,  1863. — Having  the  first  quiet  Sunday  evening  since 
January  1,  I  wish  to  go  back  in  my  Journal,  and  to  record  a  few  events 
which  I  would  like  to  remember  in  detail. 

"  I  had  been  out  of  town,  and  returned  home  on  Monday.  Having  much 
to  do,  I  sat  down  to  work.  It  was  a  close,  foggy  night.  Just  as  I  was 
settled  to  my  writing,  I  remembered  that  I  had  not  seen  my  dear  father 
since  Friday.  Anxious  to  save  time  I  went  out  as  I  was,  intending  to  spend 
only  a  few  minutes  with  him.  But  I  found  my  mother  out,  an  event  which 
had  not  happened,  I  presume,  for  years.  So  I  stayed  a  long  time,  and  to 
cheer  him  talked  over  old  Morven  stories.  He  had  been  dull  all  day,  but 
I  did  cheer  him  so  that  I  never  saw  him  more  happy.  We  parted  at  ten. 
My  door-bell  rang  about  one  a.m.,  and  a  message  was  brought  to  my  bed 
that  he  was  dying.  In  a  few  minutes,  another.  I  hurried  clown — he  was 
dead  !  I  went  to  his  room,  and  there  he  lay  as  he  had  died — asleep  !  I  did 
not  weep,  nor  did  I  feel  the  least  excited.  The  Lord  knows  how  this  was ; 
but  so  it  was.  I  felt  less  a  great  deal  than  I  had  often  done  in  visiting  the 
poorest,  even  strangers,  in  time  of  distress.  .  .  .  .  There  he  lay,  with 
that  noble  head  and  white  hair — but  why  describe  it '? 

"  In  all  my  life  I  never  saw  such  a  glorious  face  in  death.  He  lay  for  a 
week  in  that  coffin,  pure  and  sweet  as  marble.  The  red  was  in  his  lips,  and 
there  was  a  nobleness,  a  grandeur,  a  dignity,  about  that  face  and  head, 
which  were  fascinating.  I  can  describe  the  feeling  they  created  by  no  other 
word. 

"  The  remarkable  things  on  the  day  of  the  public  funeral  were  the  number 
of  Highland  women,  old  and  young,  who  struggled  with  obvious  difficulty 
in  keeping  up  with  the  hearse  until  it  reached  the  Barony,  where  we  parted 
from  the  general  company,  and  went  to  dear  old  Campsie.  There  the 
spectacle  was  very  remarkable.  It  was  twenty-five  years  since  he  had  left 
that  parish,  and  yet  in  a  town  of  two  thousand  every  shop  was  shut  sponta- 
neously.    There  we  laid  him  and  returned  to  my  beloved  mother. 

"Since  then  the  house,  which  for  twenty-five  years  has  been  the  centie 
of  such  love  and  life,  has  been  emptied,  and  a  great  chapter  has  been  closed 
We  all  intensely  realise  it." 

His  experience  in  the  management  of  an  enormous  parish  had  con- 
vinced him  that,  however  well  it  may  be  administered,  the  Poor  Law 
necessarily  entails  moral  and  social  consequences,  which,  if  not  coun- 
teracted, must  seriously  affect  the  well-being  of  the  community.  He 
believed  it  was  worse  than  a  mistake  to  place  the  deserving  poor  on 
the  same  level  with  the  idle  and  disreputable,  and  thus  destroy  that 
self-respect  which  is  the  best  safeguard  against  pauperism.  The  sub- 
stitution of  statutory  rates  for  the  exercise  of  Christian  charity,  must, 
in  his  opinion,  ultimately  demoralise  both  rich  and  poor.     The  gulf 


1862—63.  289 

which  was  every  day  becoming  wider  between  class  and  class,  between 
the  brother  who  was  "  increased  with  goods,"  in  the  West  End,  and 
the  brother  "who  had  need,"  in  the  East  End  of  the  City,  appeared  to 
him  one  of  the  gravest  problems  with  which  the  Church  had  to  deal, 
and  how  to  create  "bridges"  across  the  gulf  became  for  a  while  the 
absorbing  topic  of  his  reflections.  An  article  which  appeared  in  Good 
Words,  from  the  pen  of  his  friend  the  Kev.  W.  F.  Stevenson,  on  the 
practical  application  at  Elberfeldt  of  Dr.  Chalmers'  plan  for  relieving 
the  poor,  struck  him  so  much  that  he  determined  to  see  for  himself 
what  the  writer  described.  He  accordingly  made  a  brief  excursion  to 
Germany  in  the  month  of  February,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Stevenson, 
the  Rev.  Adolph  Saphir,  and  his  brother  Donald,  and  after  visiting- 
Pastor  Fliedner's  Deaconess  Institution,  at  Kaiserswerth,  spent  two 
days  at  Elberfeldt.*  On  his  return  to  Glasgow  he  gave  a  lecture 
"  On  East  and  West,"  to  an  influential  audience  in  the  Corporation 
Galleries ;  and  as  the  season  was  too  near  an  end  for  gaining  any 
practical  result,  he  intimated  his  intention  to  repeat  it  next  winter, 
and  to  follow  it  up  by  a  discourse  on  "  Bridges,"  in  which  he  would 
propose  a  remedy  for  the  evils  he  had  described.  This  intention  he 
was  unable  to  accomplish,*!"  and  a  paper  in  Good  Words  afterwards 
published  in  a  separate  form,  J  alone  remains  to  indicate  the  direction 
in  which  his  thoughts  were  then  turned. 

From  his  Journal  : 

"March,  1863. — On  my  return  from  Germany  I  went  to  Windsor.  I 
reached  there  Monday  night,  but  did  not  see  the  Queen.  I  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  Dean  of  Windsor  (Wellesley,  nephew  of  the  Duke),  one  of  those 
noble  specimens  of  the  pious  Christian  gentleman  which  is  characteristic  of 
the  English  Church  above  all  others.  Next  day  I  walked  with  Lady 
Augusta  to  the  Mausoleum  to  meet  the  Queen.  She  was  accompanied  by 
the  Princess  Alice.  She  had  the  key,  and  opened  it  herself,  undoing  the 
bolts,  and  alone  we  entered  and  stood  in  silence  besides  Marochetti's  beauti- 
ful statue  of  the  Prince.  I  was  very  much  overcome.  She  was  calm  and 
quiet. 

"  We  parted  at  the  entrance,  and  I  accompanied  Lady  Augusta  to  Frog- 
m^re,  and  the  tomb  of  the  Duchess  of  Kent.  She,  the  Duchess,  must  have 
be°.n  a  most  unselfish,  devoted  mother.  All  the  tender  things  Lady  Augusta 
said  about  her  were  quite  in  keeping  with  what  I  had  before  heard. 

"  I  had  a  private  interview  at  night  with  the  Queen.  She  is  so  true,  so 
genuine,  I  wonder  not  at  her  sorrow.  To  me  it  is  quite  natural,  and  has 
not  a  bit  of  morbid  feeling  in  it.  It  but  expresses  the  greatest  loss  that  a 
sovereign  and  wife  could  sustain. 


3 


*  An  account  of  this  journey  was  given  in  Good  Words,  "  Up  the  Rhine  in  White-, 
by  Four  Friends."  Each  of  the  travellers  contributed  a  portion  ;  Stevenson  describ- 
ing Kaiserswerth  and  Elberfeldt,  Saphir  a  visit  to  Dr.  Lange  at  Bonn,  Dr.  Macleod  the 
Carnival  at  Cologne,  and  his  brother  the  Ehine  scenerj  in  winter. 

t  The  unaccountable  disappearance  of  his  first  lecture  was,  in  the  midst  of  the  busy 
Winter,  one  of  the  chief  hindrances  to  his  resuming  the  subject. 

X  "  ihj\v  can  we  best  Relieve  our  Deserving  Foot-'  "     Strahan,  1807. 

10 


290  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

u  Next  day  I  went  through  Windsor,  which  is  the  beau  ideal  of  a  royal 
residence.  There  are  some  grand  pictures  in  it,  and  also  a  number  of  poor 
ones.  Except  the  royal  apartments  in  the  Kremlin,  these  are  the  finest  in 
Europe. 

"  I  returned  home  and  went  back  to  the  marriage  on  the  10th  of  March. 
I  was  in  full  court  dress,  but  found  I  could  have  gone  in  gown  and  bands. 
Why  describe  what  has  been  given  in  full  detail?  I  got  beside  Kingsley, 
Stanley,  Birch,  and  in  a  famous  place.  Being  in  front  of  the  royal  pair  Ave 
saw  better  than  any,  except  the  clergy.  It  was  a  gorgeous  sight,  yet  some- 
how did  not  excite  me.     I  suppose  I  am  past  this. 

"  Two  things  struck  me  much.  One  was  the  whole  of  the  royal  princesses 
weeping,  though  concealing  their  tears  with  their  bouquets,"'  as  they  saw 
their  brother,  who  was  to  them  but  their  <  Bertie '  and  their  dear  father's 
son,  standing  alone  waiting  for  his  bride.  The  other  was  the  Queen's  ex- 
pression as  she  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven,  while  her  husband's  Chorale  was 
sung.     She  seemed  to  be  with  him  alone  before  the  throne  of  God." 

To  Rev.  A.  Clerk,  LL.D.:— 

"  Even  you  have  little  idea  of  the  overwhelming  business  which  has  been 
laid  on  me  by  Brovidence.  I  am  able  to  keep  peace  at  the  heart,  but  with 
extreme  difficulty ;  for  it  is  so  vexing  to  be  able  to  do  nothing  well  which 
is  attempted,  and  to  leave  so  much  utterly  undone. 

"  The  Brince's  marriage  was,  of  cour.se,  a  splendid  affair.  I  could  not 
help  smiling  at  your  idea  of  my  recpiiring  much  grace  to  return  to  my  work  ! 
I  returned  with  quiet  thanksgiving ;  for,  believe  me,  spectacles  of  that  sort 
don't  even  excite  me.  They  interest  me  much  ;  but  a  day  in  Glen  Nevis 
would  unfit  me  much  more  for  the  Glasgow  closes.  I  hope  in  sunmier  to 
have  the  joy  of  visiting  King  Ben  and  ins  Queen,  the  Glen." 

To  the  Rev.  W.  F.  Steven >ox  :— 

''March  16,  IS 63. 
"  I  gave  my  lecture  '  On  East  and  West '  on  Monday  to  a  great  audience, 
but  from  want  of  time  I  could  say  little  about  Elberfeldt,  so  I  mean  to  open 
next  winter's  course  with  a  lecture  on  '  Bridges,'  or  how  to  connect  East 
and  West.  To  this  end  T  mean  to  work  during  summer,  collecting  facts 
about  such  practical  efforts  in  other  places  as  may  be  suitable  for  this  city." 

From  his  Journal  :  — 

"  Tuesday,  May  25th. — I  returned  last  night  from  Balmoral.  The  weather 
magnificent.     I  was  in  singularly  dull  spirits. 

"  I  saw  the  Queen  on  Sunday  night,  and  had  a  long  and  very  confidential 
talk  with  her. 

"  I  feel  she  wishes  me  to  utter,  as  I  do,  anything,  which  in  my  soul  I 
feel  to  be  true,  and  according  to  God's  will.  She  has  a  reasoning,  searching 
mind,  anxious  to  got  at  the  root  and  the  reality  of  things,  and  abhors  ail 
shams,  whether  in  word  or  deed. 

"  Truly  I  need  a  higher  wisdom  than  my  own  to  use  the  great  talent  God 
lias  given  me  to  speak  the  truth  in  wisdom,   and  in  love  without  fear  of 


man." 


"  T  record  a  specimen  of  my  boy's  theology  :- 


1862-63.  291 

"J.   'Auntie,  what  prayer  shall  I  say?     Shall  I  say,   "When  I  lay  me 
down  to  sleep,  angels  -will  me  keep  1" '' 
"A.    'Yes;  say  that.' 

"  J.   '  Mamma  says  that  good  angels  keep  good  boys.' 
"A.   '  Shall  I  leave  the  candle  burning  3     Are  you  frightened?' 
"J.  'Yes — no — yes;  leave  it  burning.' 
"  A.   '  What  are  you  frightened  for  1 ' 
"J.   'Rats.' 

"  A.   'Think  you,  dear,  about  the  good  angels.' 
"  J.  '  Can  they  kill  rats  ?  '  " 

As  it  was  thought  desirable  to  send  deputies  from  the  Church  to 
visit  the  stations  which  the  Committee  of  the  Jewish  Mission  was  es- 
tablishing in  the  Levant,  Dr.  Macleod  and  his  friend  Dr.  Macduff 
volunteered  their  services  for  this  duty,  and  offered  to  fulfil  it  at  their 
own  cost.  They  resolved,  however,  not  to  go  except  the  General 
Assembly  was  perfectly  unanimous  in  its  decision.  This  condition 
not  having  been  fulfilled,  they  gave  up  all  thoughts  of  the  expedi- 
tion. 

To  Dr.  Macduff  : — 

<•'  All  will  go  well,  I  hope,  in  the  Assembly.  We  do  not  go,  of  course  ; 
but  I  hope  enough  sense  and  generosity  will  be  found  as  to  let  us  off  with 
grace.     Fear  not !  you  and  I  shall  come  well  out  of  this  business." 

The  opposition  to  Good  Words,  which  he  had  anticipated  from  a 
section  of  the  religious  world,  and  of  which  some  faint  murmurs  had 
already  reached  him,  at  last  broke  out  with  a  violence  for  which  he 
was  certainly  not  prepared.  The  Record  newspaper  published  a  series 
of  criticisms  of  the  magazine,  especially  referring  to  the  contributions 
of  Principal  Tulloch,  Dr.  Lee,  Dr.  Caird,  and  Dr.  Macleod,  which, 
besides  wrath  and  bitterness,  displayed  so  much  deliberate  dishonesty, 
that  he  was  utterly  shocked  by  the  revelation  it  gave  of  the  spirit 
reigning  in  the  narrower  circle  of  the  "  Evangelical "  world.  The 
maledictions  of  the  Record,  reprinted  in  the  form  of  a  pamphlet,  and 
widely  circulated  in  England  and  Scotland,  were  caught  up  and 
re-echoed  by  kindred  organs  throughout  the  country,  and  had  the 
effect  of  making  the  editor  of  the  offending  periodical  an  object  of  sus- 
picion to  many  whose  good-will  he  valued.  A  ludicrous  anti-climax 
was  reached  in  the  Controversy  when  the  Presbytery  of  Strathbogie 
gravely  "  overture*!  "  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Eree  Church  to  take 
Good  Words  into  its  consideration.  If  Dr.  Macleod  was  indignant 
under  this  treatment,  he  was  still  more  grieved  and  ashamed.  He  never, 
however,  lost  the  confidence  of  the  healthier  "Evangelical"  party  in 
all  Churches,  and  an  able  exposure  of  the  spiteful  character  of  the 
criticisms  in  the  Record  which  appeared  in  the  Patriot,  did  much  even 
to  remove  the  suspicions  under  which  he  lay  wiili  the  weaker 
brethren. 


292  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  A  series  of  reviews  on  Good  Words  have  appeared  in  the  Record  news- 
paper. What  gives  these  furious  attacks  any  interest  to  me  is  the  evidence 
which  they  afford  of  the  state  of  a  section  of  the  Evangelical  Church  which 
sets  itself  up  as  the  perfection  of  '  Evangelicalism.' 

"  .  .  .  .  I  was  quite  aware  of  the  risk  I  should  run  from  the  narrow 
school  of  perfectly  conscientious  people,  weak  albeit  and  ignorant  of  the  big 
world,  and  of  the  necessities  of  the  times,  and  of  what  might  be  done  for 
Christ's  cause  and  kingdom  by  wiser  and  broader  means. 

"I  had  tried  the  very  same  experiment  in  the  old  Edinburgh  Christian, 
Magazine  for  ten  years.  It  never  paid:  its  circulation  was  about  four 
thousand.  But  I  held  on  till  the  publishers,  who  had  little  capital  and  less 
enterprise,  gave  it  up  in  despair.  But  while  I  met  constant  opposition  from 
the  weaker  brethren,  I  held  on  with  the  hope  of  emancipating  cheap  religious 
literature  from  the  narrowness  and  weakness  to  which  it  had  come.  Good 
Words  has  now  risen  to  a  circulation  of  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand 
monthly,  while  we  print  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand.  Thus  the  ex- 
periment has  so  far  succeeded.  I  resolved  to  publish  the  names  of  con- 
tributors, so  that  each  man  would  feel  he  was  responsible  for  his  own  share 
of  the  work  only,  while  I  was  responsible  for  the  whole.  Until  this  moment 
it  has  been  welcomed,  but  the  Record  has  opened  fire — Strahan  told  me  it 
was  to  do  so.  The  articles  afford  frightful  evidence  of  the  low  state  to 
which  Pharisaical  •'  Evangelicalism'  has  come.  They  have  been  ably 
answered  in  a  series  of  articles  in  the  Patriot.  I  don't  know,  nor  suspect 
by  whom.  An  attempt  is  being  made  to  get  Good  Words  rejected  by  Tract 
Societies,  the  Pure  Literary  Society,  &c.  It  is  incomprehensible  to  me  that, 
at  a  time  when  the  very  citadel  of  truth  is  attacked,  these  men  are  not 
thankful  for  such  a  sincere  and  hearty  defence.  Strahan  writes  me  that 
since  the  attack  he  has  sold  more  than  ever.  But  this  is  a  secondary  con- 
sideration. My  own  belief  is  that  the  magazine  will  for  a  time  be  injwed. 
So  many  thousands  of  well-intentioned  people  are  slaves  to  religious  papers 
(among  the  worst  in  existence),  and  to  their  weak-headed  '  Evangelical' 
pastors,  as  much  as  any  Papists  to  their  church  or  priesthood ;  and  so  many 
men  are  terrified  to  be  held  up  as  '  tmevangelical,'  that  I  don't  think  they  are 
as  yet  prepared  for  a  magazine  which  shall  honestly  represent  the  various 
subjects,  besides  '  religion,'  which  in  point  of  fact  so  occupy  the  thoughts  of 
good  men. 

"  The  «  world'  is  that  which  is  '  not  of  the  Father.'  ^The  so-called  •  Evan- 
gelical party'— for,  thank  God,  they  are  but  a  small  clique — are  becoming 
the  worshippers  of  mere  Shibboleths — phrases.  The  shortest  road  to  be  con- 
sidered religious  is  to  adhere  to  the  creed  in  words,  and  to  keep  up  a  cant 
vocabulary.  Let  two  men  appear  in  a  certain  circle  of  society  of  London, 
and  let  one  man  speak  of  '  the  Lord's  people,'  '  a  man  of  God,'  '  a  great  work 
going  on  of  revival,'  &c,  and  another  speak  of  '  good  Christian  people,'  '  a 
good  man,'  '  good  doing,'  the  first  man  is  dubbed  godly,  and  the  other  man 
at  least  doubtful,  and  all  from  phrases  !  The  one  man's  sins,  misrepresen- 
tations, uncharitableness,  are  put  down  to  the  frailties  of  '  a  man  of  God  ;' 
the  other  man's  excellencies  to  vain  appearances.  The  evil  of  the  one  is 
accounted  for,  the  good  of  the  other  denied  or  suspected.  This  is  horrible  ! 
"  In  bike  manner,  though  a  man  believes,  as  I  do,  with  his  whole  soul  the 


1 802— 03.  29 


o 


doctrines  of  Scripture,  yet  woe  to  him  unless  he  believes  tlie  precise  philo- 
sophy,  or  the  systematic  form  of  those  doctrines  held  by  the  clique!  It  is 
not  enough  that  you  believe  in  Christ's  life  and  death  as  an  atonement,  as 
revealing  God's  love,  as  that  without  which  there  is  no  pardon  for  sin,  as 
that  by  which  we  are  reconciled  to  God.  They  will  tell  you  that  you  deny 
the  atonement  unless  you  believe  that  Christ  on  the  cross  endured  the 
punishment  which  was  due  to  each  sinner  of  the  elect  for  whom  He  died  ; 
which,  thank  God,  I  don't  believe,  as  I  know  He  died  for  the  whole  world. 
They  never  seem  to  be  aware  of  the  difficulties  connected  with  the  philo- 
sophy of  the.  atonement :  what  it  was,  how  Christ  bore  our  sins,  how  this 
stands  connected  with  pardon,  or  man's  spiritual  life.  And  so  as  re- 
gards every  other  doctrine  :  a  man  may  believe  in  the  corruption  of  human 
nature,  and  to  the  extent  that  it  requires  the  supernatural  power  of  God's 
Holy  Spirit  to  renew  us  and  make  us  holy — but  Anathema !  unless  you 
believe  that  you  are  damned  for  Adam's  sin,  and  that  a  man  has  to  be 
passive  as  a  stone  till  God,  on  what  principle  we  know  not,  acts  on  him.  It 
is  not  enough  to  believe  that  sin  is  cursed,  and  that  so  long  as  a  sinner 
remains  in  this  world  or  anywhere  loving  sin,  he  is  in  hell.  But  you  must 
believe  in  literal  fire  and  brimstone :  a  lake  of  fire,  into  which  infants  even 
may  be  cast,  or  you  are  not  '  Evangelical !'  In  vain  you  vow  that  you 
submit  to  Christ's  teaching,  that  whatever  He  says  you  believe,  that  you 
submit  to  it,  and  are  sure  that  ultimately  reason  and  conscience  will  rejoice 
in  it.  Anathema  !  unless  you  see  A  B  C  to  be  Christ's  teaching,  the  proof 
of  which  is,  that  not  the  Pope  nor  the  Church,  but  that  we,  the  '  Evangelical 
Church,'  the  Record,  or  Dr.  This  or  Dr.  That,  think  so,  say  so,  and  curse 
every  man  who  thinks  or  says  differently. 

"Along  with  all  this  fury  in  defending  'the  faith'  (forsooth!)  'once 
delivered  to  the  saints'  (as  if  Abraham  were  a  Recordite) ,  there  is  such  a 
spirit  of  hatred  and  gross  dishonesty  manifested  that  it  has  driven  more 
away  from  real  Christianity  than  all  the  rationalists  who  have  ever  written. 
God  helping  me,  I  will  continue  Good  Words  as  I  have  begun.  If  good  men 
will  cast  me  out  of  their  hearts,  I  feel  most  deeply  the  loss,  but  I  must  carry 
this  cross.  It  is  my  daily  prayer  to  be  guided  in  it  for  the  glory  of  my 
.Redeemer,  and  I  wish  each  number  to  have  such  a  testimony  for  Him  in  it 
as  that  I  shall  be  able  to  put  it  under  my  pillow  when  I  die. 

"  I  was  threatened  in  London  that  unless  I  gave  up  Stanley  and  Kings- 
ley  I  should  be  'crushed!'  What  a  wretched  hypocrite  I  would  be  if  I  prac- 
tically declared  that  I  did  not  think  these  men  worthy  of  writing  beside 
me  !  Only  think  of  it,  Editor !  Strahan  and  I  agreed  to  let  Good  Words 
perish,  perish  a  hundred  times,  before  we  would  play  such  a  false  part  as 

this.     or  accepted  as  Christ's  friend,  and  Arthur  Stanley 

rejected  as  His  enemy  !  It  might  make  the  devils  laugh  and  angels  weep  ! 
Good  Words  may  perish,  but  I  will  never  save  it  by  such  sacrifices  of  prin- 
ciple as  this. 

"  I  believe  the  warfare  begun  by  that  miserable  Record — which  I  have  ab- 
horred ever  since  it  wrote  about  dear  Arnold — will  end  in  the  question,  how 
far  the  truly  pious  Church  of  Christ  in  this  country  is  to  be  ruled  by  a  small 
synagogue  of  Pharisees  and  good  old  Avomen,  including  men  not  a  few.  We 
shall  sec. 

"Yet  I  co  this  week  to  the  Evangelical  Alliance  !    Yes  I  do.     I  have  re- 


294  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

ceived  much  spiritual  good  from  its  meetings.  I  won't  be  driven  off  by  the 
Record.  But  I  shall  see  of  Avhat  spirit  it  is  now,  and  will  continue  in  it 
or  leave  it  as  I  find  it  right. 

"  My  Father,  forgive  my  keen  feeling  if  I  do  injustice  to  the  weakest 
child  of  God ;  help  me  to  be  humble  and  meek,  but  courageous  and  sincere. 
Amen." 

"May  25. — The  Alliance  meeting  has  convinced  me  that  all  mind,  all 
grasp,  all  power  arising  from  love  guided  by  sound  judgment  has  ceased  to 
characterise  it.  It  has  become  the  type  of  exclusion  rather  than  inclusion, 
and  'terrified  for  the  adversaries,'  it  is  shrinking  into  a  small  cell.  I  will 
leave  it.  The  Alliance  should  include  all  who  acknowledge  the  supreme 
authority  of  the  Lord  Jesus  and  that  of  the  Holy  Scripture. 

"  Dear  Sir  Culling  is  dead.  He  has  joined  the  true  Alliance,  and  no  man 
will  be  more  at  home  in  Heaven." 

The  following  letter,  written  in  answer  to  a  respectful  remonstrance 
from  one  of  the  Professors  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  was  printed 
for  private  circulation, 

"Glasgow,  June,  1863. 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  note ;  because  I  feel  assured  that  you  meant 
it  kindly. 

"  I  can  hardly  express  to  you  the  pain,  and,  I  must  add.  the  surprise, 
with  which  I  received  the  objections  to  Good  Words  which  it  contains,  from 
one  for  whose  character  and  culture  I  entertain  such  high  respect.  Perhaps 
I  feel  this  the  more  at  this  time,  when  I  have  been  made  the  object  of  a 
most  unrighteous  and  untruthful  attack  by  the  Record  newspaper. 
I  would  feel  pained  to  discover  even  a  shadow  of  such  a  publication  falling 
for  a  moment  over  any  portion  of  the  Evangelical  Church  in  Scotland. 

"  Certain  criticisms  in  the  last  meeting  of  the  Free  Church  Assembly 
make  me  write  thus,  although  I  do  not  mean  to  take  further  notice  of  that 
popular  demonstration. 

"  But  let  me  endeavour  to  obviate,  or  at  least  modify,  the  difficulties 
which  you  are  pleased  so  kindly  to  express  in  your  letter  regarding  Good 
Words. 

"  There  is,  first  of  all,  the  objection  which  you  call  the  Sabbath  reading 
question.  You  fear,  as  I  understand  it,  that  young  persons  may  be  tempted 
to  read  the  'secular'  articles  of  Good  Words  on  Sunday,  and  that  'the  fine 
tone'  which  we  have  so  long  associated,  and,  very  properly,  with  Sabbath 
reading  may  thereby  be  deteriorated.  Now,  Good,  Words  is  not  specially 
intended,  as  too  many  Christian  periodicals,  I  think  are,  to  furnish  nourish- 
ment for  the  young  chiefly,  but  rather  to  give  solid  meat  for  intelligent  men 
and  women.  But  if  any  members  of  a  Christian  family  are  compelled  to 
endure  such  severe  and  dry  exercises  on  the  Sunday  as  would  make  them 
long  for  even  the  scientific  articles  in  Good  Words,  or,  what  is  still  more 
common,  if  they  are  so  ill-trained  as  to  read  what  parental  authority  has 
forbidden,  let  me  ask,  in  such  a  case,  why  not  lock  up  Good  Words?  The 
poorest  family  have  generally  a  press,  or  a  chest  of  drawers,  where  this 
mechanical  process  can  \>v  achieved.  It  surely  must  be  acknowledged  that 
the  periodical,  so  far  as  its  mere  'secular'  element  is  concerned,  may  be  ad- 
mitted as  a  respectable  and  worthy  visitor  of  a  Christian  family  on  at  least 


1862— G3.  295 

six  days  of  the  week  1  If  so,  why  not  take  the  visitor  by  the  throat,  say  at 
11.55  on  Saturday  night,  just  at  the  moment  when  he  is  being  transformed 
into  the  character  of  a  dangerous  intruder,  and  then  incarcerate  him  till  he 
becomes  once  more  respectable  at  12.05  on  Monday  morning'?  Or,  if  it  is 
found  that  the  villain  may  escape  on  Sunday,  that  John  and  James  have 
become  so  attached  to  him  that  they  are  disposed  to  pick  the  lock  of  liis  pri- 
son and  let  him  out,  might  it  not  be  prudent,  in  such  a  case,  to  adopt  the 
old  orthodox  Popish  fashion  of  burning  him  as  a  heretic  1 — with  the  condi- 
tion only,  for  the  great  advantage  of  the  publishers,  that  a  new  copy  shall 
be  purchased  every  Monday  morning !  Even  in  this  case,  and  in  spite  of 
all  those  holocausts,  Good  Words  would  still  be  '  worth  much  and  cost  little.' 

But  then,  my  dear ,  you  must  consider  how  to  dispose  of  all  your  other 

'secular'  literature  upon  the  first  day  of  the  week.  What  of  your  other  secular 
books  and  'secular'  periodicals'?  and,  what  is  a  still  more  difficult  question, 
how  are  you  to  dispose  of  all  your  secular  conversation,  if  science  be  secular1? 
What,  for  example,  are  you  to  do  with  the  secular  sun,  moon,  and  stars  1 
Are  you  to  look  at  them  1  If  you  do  so,  are  you  to  think  about  them  ]  If  you 
think  about  them,  are  you  to  speak  about  them  1  If  you  speak  about  them, 
are  you  to  do  so  scientifically — that  is,  according  to  truth  *?  For,  if  so,  you 
thereby  immediately  tread  upon  dangerous  ground.     You  may  be  led  into  a 

talk  on  Astronomy,  and  may  thus  become  as  bad  as  Professor ,  who, 

as  you  inform  me,  declared  from  the  chair  of  the  Royal  Society  that  he  had 
read  an  article  on  Astronomy  in  Good  Words  on  a  Sunday  evening.  Your 
theory  carried  to  this  extent  is  hard  to  practise  in  consistency  with  the  most 
holy  idea  of  the  Sunday.  But  that  is  not  my  look-out.  '  Let  each  man  be 
fully  persuaded  in  his  own  mind.' — 'To  him  that  esteerneth  anything  to  be 
unclean,  to  him  it  is  unclean.'  It  is  enough  for  my  defence  that  lock  and 
key  can  enable  any  man  to  dispose  of  Good  Words,  if  he  finds  his  family 
tempted,  from  want  of  principle  or  self-control,  to  read  some  of  those  articles 
which,  I  admit,  are  not  intended  for  the  Sunday,  but  for  the  other  days  of 
the  week.  Pray,  my  friend,  do  not  suppose  that  I  am  speaking  lightly  of 
the  Sunday,  or  of  its  becoming  exercises.  I  will  yield  to  no  man  living  in 
my  profound  thankfulness  for  the  Lord's  Day  and  all  its  sacred  influences  : 
nor  do  I  wish,  God  forbid  !  to  weaken  them,  but  to  strengthen  them.  I  am 
merely  indulging  in  a  little  banter  with  reference  to  what  appears  to  rae  to 
be  a  wrong  application  of  principles,  on  which  we  all  agree,  to  the  condem- 
nation of  Good  Words. 

"  As  to  the  objection  aboiit  the  mixture  of  secular  and  sacred  in  Good 
Words,  which  is  involved  in  'the  Sabbath  reading  question,'  what  can  I  say  ? 
Ought  I  to  leave  out  the  sacred  1  Would  the  magazine  thereby  become  more 
Christian  ]  You  seem  to  object  to  its  title,  as  a  magazine  for  all  the  week. 
Will  it  become  good  if  I  leave  out  that  title,  or  construct  another,  suggesting 
that  it  is  a  magazine  for  all  the  week  except  the  Sunday  1  Would  either 
this  change  in  its  title,  or  the  withdrawal  of  its  'religious'  contents  make  it 
really  more  religious,  and,  therefore,  more  worthy  of  the  support  of  Evan- 
gelical men1?  I  have  no  sympathy  with  these  objections.  Either  of  us  must 
have  a  way  of  looking  at  the  matter  which  the  other  cannot  understand. 

"  Your  other  objection  is  worthy,  however,  of  a  more  lengthened  and 
serious  reply.  I  quite  sympathize  with  those  who  may  urge  it : — I  mean, 
the  fact  of  writers  belonging  to  different  schools  in  theology,  and  different 


296  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

departments  in  literature,  such  as  Mr.  Trollope,  Professor  Kingsley,  and  Dr. 
Stanley,  writing  in  the  same  journal  with  other  men  of  acknowledged 
'  Evangelical'  sentiments.  Now,  whether  the  plan  or  idea  be  right  or 
wrong,  of  a  religious  magazine  which  shall  include  among  its  writers  men  of 
all  parties  and  Churches,  or  occupying  different  walks  in  literature,  I  beg  to 
assure  you  that  I  alone  am  responsible  for  it.  It  was  not  suggested  to  me 
by  the  publishers  or  by  others,  but  was  made  a  condition  by  myself  before 
accepting  the  editorship  of  the  magazine.  Moreover,  I  can  very  sincerely 
say,  that  it  was  not  conceived  or  adopted  without  most  grave,  mature,  and 
prayerful  consideration.  I  say  prayerful,  not  as  a  mere  phrase,  but  as  ex- 
pressing a  real  fact.  I  admit  also  that  I  have  been  from  the  first  alive  to 
the  possible  offence  this  plan  might  give  to  some  good  and  thoroughly  sincere 
men  who  had  been  accustomed  to  associate  with  what  was  called  'Evamreli- 
cal  literature'  a  different  and  narrower  idea. 

"...  I  believed,  that  if  our  cheap  religious  publications  were  to  exercise 
real  influence  upon  our  intelligent  mechanics,  much  more  upon  that  immense 
mass  which  occupies  the  middle  ground  between  the  '  Recordite '  Church 
paity  on  the  one  side,  and  the  indifferent  and  sceptical  on  the  other,  popular 
Christian  periodical  literature  must  be  made,  within,  of  course,  certain 
limits,  much  wider,  truer,  more  manly,  and  more  human — i.e.,  more  really 
Christian  in  its  sympathies  than  it  had  hitherto  been.  With  these  convic- 
tions naturally  and  soberly  formed,  I  resolved  to  make  the  experiment  and 
to  face  all  its  difficulties. 

"...  My  rale  has  been  to  obtain  assistance  from  the  best  men  in  every 
church  and  party  I  can  find  able  and  willing  to  write  for  me  on  such  subjects 
as  all  men  may  read  with  interest  or  with  profit.  This  rule  is  limited  by 
one  principle  only,  which  has  ever  guided  me,  and  that  is,  never  to  accept 
the  contributions  of  any  writer,  male  or  female,  however  talented,  who 
is  known  to  be  anti-Christian  in  creed  or  life.  No  infidel,  no  immoral  man 
or  woman,  no  one  whom  I  could  not  receive,  in  so  far  as  character  is  con- 
cerned, into  my  family,  will  ever  be  permitted  to  write  in  the  pages  of  Good 
Words.  Nay  more,  what  they  write  must  be  in  harmony  at  least  with  the 
essentials  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  with  its  morals.  But,  short  of  this, 
I  hold  that  he  who  is  not  against  Christ  is  for  Him — for  Him  more  especi- 
ally when  the  author,  whoever  he  be,  is  willing  to  write  side  by  side  with 
men  who  preach  the  Gospel  out-and-out.  And,  therefore,  I  have  no  hesita- 
tion in  saying  to  you,  that  I  believe  every  person  who  has  written  in  Good 
Words  publicly  professes  his  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  maintains  a  character 
not  inconsistent  with  that  profession. 

"As  to  the  fear  you  express  of  persons  being  thus  induced  to  read  Kings- 
ley or  Stanley,  no  person,  I  believe,  who  has  not  read  them  already,  will  be 
inclined  to  do  so  merely  by  reading  Good  Words.  But  I  presume  that  most 
people  who  read  general  literature  are  already  acquainted  with  their  writ- 
ings. Yet  I  begin  to  think  that  these  are  condemned  by  many  who  have 
never  read  them,  but  have  received  from  others,  ecpially  ignorant,  a  vague 
impression  of  something  horrible  about  them,  they  know  not  what.  I  am 
not  aware  of  anything  they  have  ever  written  which  should  necessitate  their 
being  excommunicated  from  the  pages  of  Christian  periodical  literature. 
Anyhow,  I  have  little  faith  in  an  Index  Expurgatorius  being  wise  or  efficient 
among  people  of  ordinary  education  and  intelligence.     For  once  that  it  makes 


18G2     G3.  297 

ayoung  man  pious,  in  a  hundred  cases  it  makes  him  either  Ignorant,  false, 
or  sceptical.  To  know  both  sides  is,  I  think,  the  only  safeguard  for  meni 
who  may  feel  called  upon  to  study  the  present  phases  of  religious  thought. 
Good  Words,  however,  gives  them  but  the  good  side. 

"What  then  has  been  the  practical  result  of  my  editorial  plan?  It  is 
this:  that  I  defy  any  man  to  select  a  number  in  which  there  has  not  been 
again  and  again  repeated  a  full  statement  of  Gospel  truth,  and  that  too 
without  any  one  article,  or  even  any  passage  in  any  number  contradicting 
it,  but  every  article  being,  at  least,  in  harmony  with  it.  No  doubt  you 
may  pick  out  here  and  there  once  in  a  jrear,  and  out  of  a  hundred  articles, 
some  sentence  which  may  have  crept  in  through  inadvertency,  and  which 
might  have  been  perhaps  better  left  out.  And  in  a  few  articles  also  of 
a  more  strictly  religious  character  there  may  be  the  omission  of  doctrines 
which  we  might  wish  had  been  in,  or  more  fully  stated.  But  the  Magazine 
must  be  judged  of  as  a  whole,  and  by  the  general  tendency  of  all  its  articles, 
and  the  impressions  which  it  is  likely  to  make  upon  any  truthful,  honest, 
fair  man.  Let  me  say  it  with  all  reverence,  that  there  are  books  and  epis- 
tles in  the  Scriptures  themselves  which  could  be  proved  defective,  doubtful, 
and  liable  to  be  misunderstood,  if  the  same  principles  of  carping  Colenso 
ciiticism  are  applied  to  them  as  those  which  have  been  applied  by  the 
Record  to  Good  Words. 

"  .  .  .  I  must  presume  that  you,  my  dear  Sir,  are  neither  acquainted 
personally  with  Ivingsley  nor  Stanley,  and  that  you  have  not  read  their 
works  with  cai*e.  Writing  hurriedly,  as  you  have  done,  you  may  have  ac- 
cepted without  mature  reflection  the  application  of  the  verses  from  2  Cor. 
vi.  15,  16,  first  suggested  by  the  Record.  But  were  I,  who  have  the  honour 
and  privilege  of  knowing  these  men — while  differing,  as  I  have  said,  very 
decidedly  from  many  of  their  views — to  indulge  such  a  thought  regarding 
our  relative  position,  I  should  loathe  myself  as  a  Pharisee  of  the  Pharisees, 
and  despise  myself  as  the  meanest  hypocrite  on  earth.  I  have  great  per- 
sonal respect  for  the  characters  of  Trollope,  Kingsley,  and  Stanley,  as  well 
as  admiration  of  their  genius,  though  they  occupy  very  different  walks  in 
literature.  I  have  the  privilege  of  knowing  Dr.  Stanley  more  intimately 
than  the  others,  and  I  am  glad  to  have  even  this  opportunity  of  expressing 
to  you  my  profound  conviction  that  he  has  a  fear  of  God,  a  love  for  Christ 
and  for  his  fellow-men,  a  sense  of  honour,  truth,  and  justice,  such  as  I  should 
rejoice  to  believe  were  even  seriously  aimed  at  by  the  conductors  of  the 
Record.  The  passage  you  hastily  apply  to  such  a  man  as  Stanley — I  feel 
assured,  without  the  full  meaning  I  attach  to  it — was,  nevertheless,  coolly 
written  and  printed  in  the  Record,  and  applied  also  to  myself,  Lee,  Tulloch, 
Caird,  and  has  been  transferred  to  the  separate  publication  of  its  so-called 
criticisms  on  Good  Words.  As  to  the  application  of  the  more  harmless  and 
peaceful  image  from  Deuteronomy  which  you  quote : — '  Thou  shalt  not 
plough  with  an  ox  and  an  ass  together,'  I  shall,  with  confidence,  leave  your 
own  good  taste  to  make  it,  if  you  can  suppose  Arthur  Stanley  and  the 
1  Chelsea  Pensioner'  writing  together  in  Good  Words. 

"...  But  whatever  may  become  of  Good  Words,  I  am  grieved  to  see 
the  tendency,  on  the  part  of  some  good  men  in  the  Evangelical  Church,  to 
cast  away  from  their  heart  and  sympathies  in  such  a  crisis  as  the  present, 
the  cordial  aid  which  men  most  devoted  to  Christ  and  His  kingdom  are 


298  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

willing  to  afford  to  the  cause  which  all  have  at  heart,  the  very  moment  they 
refuse  in  some  one  point,  to  shape  their  plans,  or  even  their  phrases,  to  the 
stereotyped  form  which  some  small  party  have  sanctioned,  as  being  the  only 
type  of  '  evangelicism.'  They  are  too  apt  to  be  governed  by  the  mere  letter 
and  words,  instead  of  looking  into  the  spirit  and  realities  of  things,  and 
thus  unconsciously  accept  the  well-known  advice  given  in  Faust  to  a  student 
by  one  whom  I  need  not  name,  but  who  is,  I  suspect,  not  ignorant  of  many 
of  the  private  conspiracies  against  good  men  in  the  office  of  the  Record. 

"  '  Im  ganzen — hnltet  euch  an  Worte ! 
Dunn  geht  ihr  durch  die  sich'ie  Pforte 
Zum  Tempel  der  Gewisshcit  em.'     .     ,     . 
«  *  *  *  * 

'  Mit  Worlen  lix^st  sieh  trefflich  streiten, 
Mit  Worten  ein  System  bereiten, 
An  Worte  liisst  sieb.  trefflich  glauben, 
Von  einem  Wort  lasst  sieh  kern  Iota  rauben.' 

"  With  a  good  conscience  towards  God  and  man,  I  therefore  crave  as  a 
Christian  brother  pastor,  seeking  to  aid  his  Master's  work,  the  sympathy  of 
the  good  men  of  all  parties,  and  of  all  Churches — for  Good  Words  belongs 
to  all.  If  this  is  denied  me,  by  even  a  few,  on  those  few  be  the  responsi- 
bility of  weakening  my  hands  and  my  efforts.  Profoundly  convinced,  how- 
ever, of  a  higher  sympathy,  I  shall  go  on  as  I  have  begun,  with  a  firm, 
clear  purpose,  and  a  peaceful,  courageous  heart.  As  I  have  sung  long  ago, 
I  sing  now,  and  hope  to  do  so  till  my  voice  is  silent — 

"  '  Trust  no  party,  church,  or  faction, 
Trust  no  leaders  in  the  fight ; 
But  in  every  word  and  action, 
Trust  in  God,  and  do  the  right  ! 

*  Some  will  hate  thee,  some  will  love  thee. 

Some  will  flatter,  some  will  slight. 
Cease  from  man,  and  look  above  thee, 

Trust  in  God,  and  do  the  right !'  " 

From  the  Rev.  k,  P.  Stanley,  Professor  of  Ecclesiastical  History  :— 

"  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  June  13,  1863. 

"  For  my  part  I  would  at  once  relieve  you  of  my  presence  in  Good  Words, 
but  I  consider  the  principle  which  you  advocate  in  your  letter  to  be  so  good, 
that  I  shall  be  sorry  to  do  so.  '  The  ox  and  ass'  must  plough  together  in 
the  Christian  dispensation,  though  they  were  forbidden  to  do  so  in  the 
Mosaic." 

From  the  late  Canon  Kingsley  : — 

"Cambridge,  Saturday  Night. 

"  I  have  sent  off  my  copy.  If  anything  in  it  seems  to  you  not  fit  for 
your  readers,  you  are  to  strike  your  pen  through  it  without  fear. 

"I  can  trust  utterly  your  liberality  and  good  sense.  I  am  old  enough  to 
know,  with  Hesiod,  that  half  is  sometimes  better  than  the  whole.  I  have 
full  means  in  England  of  speaking  my  whole  mind  as  often  as  I  wish.     It 


18G2— G3.  2'JD 

is  for  you  to  decide  how  much  thereof  can  be  spoken  without  offence  to  your 
70,000  readers.     So  do  what  you  like  with  the  paper. 

"  I  should  say  this  to  very  few  editors  upon  earth,  but  I  say  it  to  you  as 
ft  matter  of  course." 

To  A.  Strahan,  Esq. : — 

"  Let  us  be  very  careful,  not  to  admit  through  oversight  one  sentence 
which  ought  to  pain  a  Christian,  however  weak  he  may  be.  In  one  word, 
let  lis  honestly,  sincerely,  humbly,  truthfully  do  what  is  right,  and  dare  the 
devil  whether  he  comes  as  an  infidel  or  a  Pharisee. 

"  We  have  an  immense  talent  given  us,  let  us  use  it  well. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  Good  Words  will  be  injured,  but  it  will  perish  before  I 
truckle  to  any  party." 

i 

To  the  Samb  :— 

'•'I  have  read  Number  1  of  the  Record ;  but  the  louder  the  wind  pipes, 
and  the  gurlier  the  sea  gets  from  that  quarter,  tho  more  calm,  steadfast  I 
feel  to  steer  right  on  by  the  compass  of  a  good  conscience,  by  the  old  chart, 
the  Bible. 

"  Thank  God,  I  have  you  as  my  first  mate,  and  not  some  Quaker.  I 
know  you  won't  flinch  in  a  gale  of  wind,  nor  will  I,  take  my  word  for  it ! 

"  I  don't  mean  to  take  any  notice  at  present,  although  I  would  like  to 
speak  out  on  the  whole  subject  of  religious  periodical  literature  as  it  was 
and  is — what  is  good  in  it  and  what  is  bad,  what  its  duties  are  and  its  short- 
comings. I  think  this  will  do  much  good  to  the  religious  atmosphere.  It 
is  very  close  at  present.  In  the  meantime  I  shall  act  on  my  old  motto, 
<  Trust  in  God  and  do  the  right.' " 


*&" 


In  the  same  year  in  which  he  was  attacked  by  the  Record,  he  had 
an  opportunity  of  showing  how  little  ground  there  was  for  the  most 
serious  of  the  charges  brought  against  him  as  editor.  He  had  asked  a 
celebrated  novelist,  a  personal  friend,  for  whose  charactor  and  opinions 
he  ever  retained  unqualified  respect,  to  write  the  tale  for  the  following 
year.  But  when  the  story  was  submitted  to  him,  he  saw  that  it  was 
not  suitable  for  the  Magazine.  There  was,  of  course,  nothing  morally 
wrong  in  its  tone,  but  as  all  its  "  religious  "  people  were  drawn  of  a 
type  which  justly  deserved  the  lash  of  the  satirist,  he  felt  that  to 
publish  it  in  Good  Words  would  be  to  lend  the  sanction  of  its  con- 
ductors to  what  he  had  long  considered  the  injustice  of  modern  novel- 
ists in  ignoring  healthy  Christianity.  A  friendly  correspondence 
followed,*  from  which  it  appeared  that  the  editor  and  his  friend  had 
misunderstood  each  other  ;  but  so  determined  was  Dr.  Macleod  and 
his  publishers  not  to  compromise  the  character  of  Good  Words,  that  the 
forfeit  of  £500  was  paid  and  the  story  declined. 

*  The  novelist  who  is  referred  to  above  thus  writes  : — "  I  need  not  say  that  Dr. 
Macleod's  rejection  of  the  story  never  for  a  moment  interfered  with  our  friendship. 
It  certainly  raised  my  opinion  of  the  man." 


300  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

To :— 

"  N.B. — This  letter  will  keep  cold  till  you  are  at  peace  with  all  the  world, 
with  a  pipe  well  tilled,  and  drawing  well.  Read  it  then,  or  a  bit  each  day 
for  a  month. 

"Glasgow,  June  11,  1863. 

"...  You  are  not  wrong ;  nor  have  you  wronged  me  or  my  pub- 
lishers in  any  way.  I  frankly  admit  this.  But  neither  am  I  wrong.  This, 
''by  your  leave,'  I  assert.  The  fact  is  that  I  misunderstood  you  and  you 
me,  though  I  more  than  you  have  been  the  cause  of  the  misunderstanding. 

'•What  I  tried  to  explain  and  wished  you  to  see  when  we  met  here  was, 
the  peculiar  place  which  Good  Words  aimed  at  occupying  in  the  held  of 
cheap  Christian  literature.  I  have  always  endeavoured  to  avoid,  on  the  one 
hand;  the  exclusively  narrow  religious  ground — narrow  in  its  choice  of  sub- 
jects and  in  its  manner  of  treating  them — hitherto  occupied  by  our  religious 
periodicals  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  avoid  altogether  whatever  was  an- 
tagonistic to  the  truths  and  spirit  of  Christianity,  and  also  as  much  as  pos- 
sible whatever  was  calculated  to  offend  the  prejudices,  far  more  the  sincere 
convictions  and  feelings,  of  fair  and  reasonable  '  Evangelical'  men.  Within 
these  extremes  it  seemed  to  me  that  a  sufficiently  extensive  field  existed,  in 
which  any  novelist  might  roam  and  find  an  endless  variety  of  life  and  man- 
ners to  describe  with  profit  to  all,  and  without  giving  offence  to  any.  This 
problem  which  I  wished  to  solve  did  not  and  does  not  seem  to  me  a  very 
difficult  one,  unless  for  very  one-sided  '  Evangelical'  or  anti-'  Evangelical' 
writers.  At  all  events,  being  a  clergyman  as  well  as  an  editor — the  one 
from  deepest  convictions,  though  the  other,  I  fear,  is  from  the  deepest  mis- 
take— I  could  not  be  else  than  sensitive  lest  anything  should  appear  in  Good 
Words  out  of  harmony  with  my  convictions  and  my  profession.  Well,  then, 
was  I  wrong  in  assuming  that  you  were  an  honest  believer  in  revealed 
Christian  truth  1  I  was  not.  Was  I  wrong  in  believing  and  hoping  that 
there  were  many  truly  Christian  aspects  of  life,  as  well  as  the  canting  and 
humbug  ones,  with  which  you  heartily  sympathized,  and  which  you  were 
able  and  disposed  to  delineate  %     I  was  not. 

"  Perhaps  I  had  no  ground  for  hoping  that  you  would  give  me  a  different 
kind  of  story  from  those  you  had  hitherto  published.  If  so,  forgive  me 
this  wrong.  Possibly  the  wish  was  father  to  the  thought.  But  the  thought 
did  not  imply  that  any  of  your  former  novels  had  been  false  either  to  your 
own  world  within  or  to  the  big  world  without — false  to  truth  or  to  nature. 
It  assumed  only  that  you  could  with  your  whole  heart  produce  another 
novel  which,  instead  of  showing  up  what  was  weak,  false,  disgusting  in 
professing  Christians,  might  also  bring  out,  as  has  never  yet  been  done, 
what  Christianity  as  a  living  power  derived  from  faith  in  a  living  Saviour, 
and  working  in  and  through  living  men  and  women,  does,  has  done,  and 
will  do,  what  no  other  known  power  can  accomplish  in  the  world,  for  the 
good  of  the  individual  or  mankind.  If  no  such  power  exists,  neither  Christ 
nor  Christianity  exists  ;  and  if  it  does,  I  must  confess  that  most  of  our  great 
novelists  are,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  marvellously  modest  in  acknowledging 
it.  The  weaknesses,  snares,  hypocrisies,  gloom  of  some  species  of  pro- 
fessing Christians  are  all  described  and  magnified  ;  but  what  of  the  genu- 
ine, heaven-born  Christian  element?     Why,  when  one  reads  of  the  goc-' 


L8C2— G3.  301 

men  in  most  novels,  it  can  hardly  be  discovered  where  they  got  their  good- 
ness; but  let  a  parson,  a  deacon,  a  Church  member  be  introduced,  and  at 
once  we  guess  where  (hey  have  had  their  badness  from — they  were  professing 
Christians. 

"  Now  all  this,  and  much  more,  was  the  substance  of  my  sermon  to  you. 

"  Now,  my  good ,  you  have  been  in  my  humble  opinion  guilty  of 

committing  this  fV.ult,  or,  as  you  might  say,  praiseworthy  in  doing  this  good, 
in  your  story.  You  hit  right  and  left ;  give  a  wipe  here,  a  sneer  there,  and 
thrust  a  nasty  prong  into  another  place ;  cast  a  gloom  over  Dorcas  societies, 
and  a  glory  over  balls  lasting  till  four  in  the  morning.  In  short,  it  is  the 
old  story.  The  shadow  over  the  Church  is  broad  and  deep,  and  over  every 
other  sj>ot  sunshine  reigns.  That  is  the  general  impression  which  the  story 
gives,  so  far  as  it  goes.  There  is  nothing,  of  course,  bad  or  vicious  in  it — 
that  could  not  be  from  you — -but  quite  enough,  and  that  without  any  neces- 
sity from  your  head  or  heart,  to  keep  Good  Words  and  its  editor  in  boiling 
water  until  either  or  both  were  boiled  to  death.  I  feel  pretty  certain  that 
you  either  do  not  comprehend  my  difficulties,  or  laugh  in  pity  at  my  bigotry. 
But  I  cannot  help  it. 

"  You  do  me,  however,  wrong  in  thinking,  as  you  seem  to  do,  that  apart 
from  the  structure  of  your  story,  and  merely  because  of  your  name,  I  have 
sacrificed  you  to  the  Record,  and  to  the  cry  it  and  its  followers  have  raised 
against  you  as  well  as  against  me.  My  only  pain  is  that  the  Record  will 
suppose  that  its  attack  has  bullied  me  into  th,  rejection  of  your  story. 

"  I  know  well  that  my  position  is  difficult,  and  that  too  because  I  do  not 
write  to  please  both  parties,  but  simply  because  I  wish  to  produce,  if  pos- 
sible, a  magazine  which,  though  too  wide  for  the  '  Evangelicals '  and  too 
narrow  for  the  anti-'  Evangelicals,'  and  therefore  disliked  by  both  cliques, 
may  nevertheless  rally  round  it  in  the  long  run  the  sympathies  of  all  who 
occupy  the  middle  ground  of  a  decided,  sincere,  and  manly  Evangelical 
Christianity." 

To  J.  M.  Ludlow,  Esq.  : — 

"  I  really  cannot  ascertain  anything  reliable  about  the  election  of  librarian. 

"  In  summer  the  College  is  dead,  the  professors  fled — no  one  but  waiters 
or  seagulls  know  whither.  For  aught  I  know,  the  books  are  off  too,  to  wash 
their  bindings,  or  to  purge  themselves  of  their  errors.  The  very  porters 
have  vanished,  or  locked  themselves  up.  I  believe  the  animals  in  the 
museum  are  gone  to  their  native  haunts.  The  clock  is  stopped.  The 
spidets  have  grown  to  a  fearful  size  in  the  class-rooms.  Hebrew  roots  have 
developed  into  trees ;  divinity  has  perished.  Who  knows  your  friend  in 
that  desert  %  I  went  to  inquire  about  him.  and  fled  in  terror  from  the  grave 
of  the  dead  sciences." 

The  letter  which  follows  refers  to  a  bereavement  which  had  over- 
taken his  uncle,  the  minister  of  Morven,  and  which  had  left  him  pecu- 
liarly desolate  and  lonely  in  the  old  home  of  Fiunary.  Norman  was 
preparing  for  a  short  tour  on  the  Continent  when  the  sad  news  reached 
him.  He  at  once  gave  up  his  promised  holiday  abroad  and  went  to 
Morven. 


302  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  :  — 

<!  Fitjnary,  June  27,  13S3. 

"  It  is  blowing  and  raining  outside,  the  Sound  looks  cold  and  dreary,  and 
within  there  is  a  dead  wife  and  a  husband  who  would  rejoice  if  he  were 
laid  beside  her. 

"  Everything  here  seems  dead — the  hills,  rocks,  and  sea — all  are  but 
things ;  the  persons  who  were  their  life  have  gone,  and  there  are  few  even 
to  speak  of  the  old  familiar  faces.  Verily  a  man's  life  can  be  found  Ai  God 
only.      Peace  we  can  have — it  must  be  ;  happiness  may  be. 

"  Monday,  6  th  July. — Yesterday  was  a  holy  day.  Without  it  was  one 
of  surpassing  splendour ;  within,  of  holy  peace.  I  preached.  There  was 
a  large  congregation  of  the  living,  but  almost  as  large  of  the  dead,  or  rather 
the  Church  above  and  below  were  visibly  present  to  my  spirit,  so  that  we 
verily  seemed,  '  whether  alive  or  asleep,  to  live  together  with  Him,'  and  to 
be  all  partaking  the  communion  of  His  Body  and  Blood — eating  of  the  living 
Bread.  The  old  Manse  family — father,  grandfather  and  gi-andniother, 
aunts  and  uncles,  down  to  dear  Margaret — seemed  to  be  all  present,  and  I 
never  enjoyed  more  peace,  and  never  was  my  heart  so  full. 

"  The  scene  in  the  churchyard  was  perfect,  as  I  sat  at  the  old  cross  and 
gazed  on  the  sea,  calm  as  the  sea  of  glass,  with  scattered  sails  and  blue  hills, 
and  the  silence  broken  by  no  footfall  on  the  green  grass,  but  by  the  distant 
voice  of  the  preacher  or  the  sound  of  psalms ;  with  the  lark  ovei'head  sing- 
ing in  joy,  or  the  lambs  bleating  among  the  hills,  or  the  passing  hum  of  the 
bee,  busy  and  contented.  Life  was  over  all,  and  in  spite  of  death,  I  think 
a  breath  of  God's  own  life  revived  lear  John's  heart. 

"  I  send  you  a  number  of  the  Christian  Observer  on  Good  Words. 

"  It  is  too  kind  to  me.  I  thank  God  it  has  lifted  off  the  burthen  of  dis- 
like I  was  beginning  tu  feel  to  the  'Evangelical'  party  in  England,  as  if 
there  was  no  justice,  mercy,  or  truth  in  them.  The  Record,  I  see,  does  but 
misrepresent  them  all. 

"  I  feel  deeply  the  kind  advice  he  gives,  and  S}nnpathize,  as  you  know, 
with  it.  They  don't  know  how  I  have  fought  '  the  world '  for  the  Church, 
and  what  I  have  kept  out.     But  I  accept  with  thanks  the  caution. 

"  May  God  help  me  to  know  and  do  His  will,  and  to  have  kind  thoughts 
of  all  men." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Early  in  October  I  went  to  fulfil  engagements  in  England.  Preached 
in  Liverpool,  London,  Stockport,  and  Ashton,  and  collected  for  the  different 
objects,  in  all  £1,087.  Spent  a  day  at  Bolton  Abbey — a  glorious  day, — 
delighted  with  the  scenery,  and  made  glad  by  human  kindness. 

"  Mr.  ,  M.P.  for ,  was  angry  because  I  preached  for  Noncon- 
formists !  The  Church  of  England  won't  let  me  preach  in  her  pulpits,  and 
out  of  respect  for  the  Church  lie  thinks  I  should  preach  for  no  one  else! 

"  I  think  it  not  only  allowable,  but  right,  in  the  Stockport  Sunday  schools, 
to  teach  reading,  writing,  and  music  to  the  poor,  who  are  obliged  to  work 
all  the  week,  and  who  can  go  nowhere  else.  What  I  object  to  is — 1,  that 
Avcll-to-do  children  should  be  thus  taught;  2.  that  arithmetic  should  be 
taught  on  Sunday. 

"  I  like  the  Nonconformists  for  their  liborality  ;  but  I  am  mote  and  more 


1862—63  303 

convinced  that  a  country  must  have  many  Churches  to  express  and  feed 
different  minds,  and  that  the  Establishment  is  a  huge  blessing  along  with 
Dissent. 

"  October,  Saturday. — Went  to  Balmoral— found  Gladstone  had  gone. 
Found  the  old  hearty  and  happy  friends.  Preached  in  the  morning  on 
'  Peace  not  happiness,'  and  in  the  church  on  '  The  Gadarene  demoniac' 

"  '  What  do  you  think  V  said  little  Princess  Beatrice  to  me.  ;'  I  am  an 
aunt,  Dr.  Macleod,  yet  my  nephew  William  (of  Prussia)  won't  do  what  I 
bid  him  !  Both  he  and  Elizabeth  refused  to  shut  the  door  !  Is  that  not 
naughty  V  I  never  saw  truer,  or  more  natural,  healthy  children.  God 
bless  them ! 

"  Monday. — Lady  Augusta,  Dr.  Jenner,  and  I,  drove  to  Garbhalt.  At 
night  I  read  Burns  and  '  Old  Mortality'  aloud  to  the  Court.  The  Royal 
Family  were  not  present.     General  Gray  is  quite  up  to  the  Scotch. 

"Tuesday. — Drove  to  Aberdeen  to  the  inauguration  of  the  Prince  Con- 
sort's statue. 

"  Here  let  me  go  back  to  impress  on  my  memory  the  glorious  Monday  at 
Garbhalt.  The  day  was  delicious.  The  river  was  full,  and  of  that  dark- 
brown,  mossy  hue  which  forms  such  a  fine  contrast  of  colour  to  the  foam  of 
the  stream  and  the  gi^een  banks.  The  view  of  the  woods,  the  valley,  Inver- 
cauld,  and  the  mountains,  was  superb.  The  forests  were  coloured  with 
every  shade,  from  the  deep  green  of  the  pines  and  firs,  to  the  golden  tints  of 
the  deciduous  trees.  Masses  of  sombre  shadow,  broken  by  masses  of  light, 
intermingled  over  the  brown  hills  and  broad  valley,  while  the  distant  hills 
and  clouds  met  in  glorious  confusion.  It  was  a  day  to  be  had  in  remem- 
brance. 

"  I  was  asked  Friday  fortnight  to  go  to  Inverary  to  meet  the  Crown 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Prussia.  I  did  so,  and  returned  Saturday.  It  was 
a  happy  visit. 

"  The  Monday  following  I  wtnt  to  visit  Prince  Alfred  at  Holyrood,  and 
staid  till  Wednesday.  The  Crown  Prince  and  Princess  there.  I  think  the 
Crown  Prince  a  simple,  frank,  unaffected,  and  affectionate  man. 
"  We  had  an  evening  party,  and  they  left  on  Tuesday  night  at  ten. 
"  We  have  had  a  small  newspaper-letter  controversy  about  the  Estab-. 
lished  Church  becoming  Episcopalian.  Nonsense  !  We  must  hold  fast  by 
our  own  past,  and  from  this  national  root  grow  up  in  adaptation  to  the  neces- 
sities of  the  times  in  all  things  non-essential,  and  from  their  nature  variable. 
But  such  a  union  is  impossible  !  The  Free  Church  speaks  of  uniting  with 
the  United  Presbyterian.  It  will  be  a  queer  evolution  in  history,  utterly 
inexplicable  on  any  principle  save  that  of  Church  ambition. 

"  They  will  cease  to  exist  the  moment  they  join.  They  will  have  lost  all, 
the  U.  P.'s  gained  all,  and  we  much.  Our  strength  must  be  in  the  width 
of  our  sympathies— in  our  national  r/iclusiveness,  not  earclusiveness. 

"  An  amusing,  silly,  yet  not  unimportant  event  has  occurred  in  relation 
to  Good  Words.  The  Free  Presbytery  of  Strathbogie  has  overtured  the 
General  Assembly  of  the  Free  Church  against  it.  Against  a  tid.  periodical, 
with  which  they  have  nothing  to  do  !  This  is  to  me  very  interesting  as  a 
social  phenomenon.  Oh,  my  God,  help  me  to  be  charitable  !  Help  me  to 
be  weak  to  the  weak,  to  be  silent  about  them,  and  to  do  Thy  will  ! 

"  November  27th. — Thank  God,  my  working-man's  church  is  in  a  fair  way 


J04  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

of  being  finished.     I  have  realised  £1,700,  and  I  feel  assured  God  will  give 
me  the  £2,500. 

"  We  have  taken  "round  for  a  school  and  a  church  at  Parkhead.       All  in 
faith  that  God  will  provide  the  money  for  both. 

"The  working-men's  services  have  been  carried  on  since,  November  1. 
and  never  were  better  attended.     Thank  God  ! 

"But  I  have  been  two  years  trying  to  get  up  a  working  man's  church. 
There  are  noble  exceptions  ;  but  I  have  found  shocking  illustrations  of  the 
spirit  of  greed  among  the  wealthy. 

"  The  sun  of  life  is  setting.     Let  me  work,  and  rest  in  soul. 

"  Thackeray  is  dead,  a  most  kind-hearted  man.  Macnab  told  me  that 
he  had  him  in  charge  coming  home  from  Calcutta,  and  that  the  day  after  he 
parted  from  him  in  London,  the  boy  returned,  and  throwing  his  arms  about 
his  neck,  burst  into  tears,  from  sheer  affection  in  meeting  his  friend  again. 
He  said  he  never  knew  a  more  loving  boy.  Thackeray  was  in  Weimar  the 
year  before  I  was  there.  We  had  a  long  talk  about  the  old  place  and  peo- 
ple.    I  felt  he  had  a  genuine  heart. 

"  Delivered  again  my  lecture  on  East  and  West  in  Glasgow.  I  think 
God  is  giving  me  a  great  work  to  do  in  Glasgow  for  the  poor.  It  must  and 
will  be  done  by  some  one,  why  not  me  1  I  am  nothing  except  as  an  instru- 
ment,  and  God  can  make  use  of  me. 

"D.V.,  let  this  be  my  word  for  '64." 


CHAPTER      XVII. 

13G4— G5. 

HE  has  given  in  "Eastward"  so  full  an  account  of  his  visit  to 
Palestine  that  it  would  be  superfluous  to  quote  at  any  length 
from  the  letters  he  sent  to  his  family.  He  was  accompanied  on  this 
tour  by  Mr.  Strahan,  his  publisher,  and  by  his  brother  Donald;  and 
from  first  to  last  it  afforded  him  unmingled  enjoyment.  Every  new 
eve«nt,  whether  it  were  a  cyclone  or  a  donkey-ride,  gave  him  fresh 
pleasure  ;  every  remarkable  spot,  from  Malta  to  Constantinople,  stined 
his  enthusiasm. 

Any  oue  who  has  travelled  in  Palestine  can  understand  how 
fatiguing  it  must  have  been  for  a  man  of  his  age  and  pliysiqii?,  to  pass 
days  in  the  saddle  in  such  a  climate.  Yet  there  were  few  evenings  on 
which  the  encampment  was  not  made  a  scene  of  merriment  by  his 
good-natured  fun  with  the  Fellahin  or  Bedawm  who  crowded  round 
the  tents.  lie  had  provided  himself,  before  leaving  London,  with 
musical  snuff-boxes  and  fire-works,  and  it  was  his  delight  to  hear  the 
''■  Mashallah  ! "  of  the  astonished  natives  when  music  burst  out  in  some 
unexpected  corner,  or  when  a  rocket  wdiizzed  aloft  and  fell  in  a 
shower  of  fire.  He  claimed  this  use  of  fireworks  as  an  original  inven- 
tion for  the  protection  of  travellers,  and  he  was  so  confident  of  its 
merits  that  he  would  not  have  been  sorry  had  the  Bedawin  of  the 
Jordan  given  him  a  fair  opportunity  of  showing  the  effect  on  their 
valour  of  a  discharge  of  crackers  or  a  bouquet  of  rockets. 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  February  14. — I  start  to-morrow  with  Donald  and  Strahan  for  Pales- 
tine. To  leave  my  wife  and  children  and  parish  for  so  long  a  time  I  feel 
to  be  very  solemn.  Why  take  it  1  I  have  a  free  conscience  towards  God — 
He  has  cleared  away  every  difficulty,  so  that  I  hope,  come  what  may,  that 
it  is  His  will  that  I  go — and  that  I  am  not  deceiving  myself  in  thinking  so. 

"  May  my  darling  mother  be  preserved  to  me,  and  my  dear  brothers  and 
sisters. 

"  Oh  Thou  who  hast  hitherto  led  me,  bring  me  back  in  safety,  and  bless 
this  tour  for  health  of  body  and  soul  !" 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"...   I  cannot  convey  to  you  the  impression  which  that  night's  expiora- 

20 


306  LIFE   OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

tion  of  Malta  made  upon  me.  I  associate  it  with  Venice  and  the  Kremlin 
as  the  three  sights  which  most  surpassed  my  expectation  and  delighted  me, 
though  in  different  ways.  The  night  was  glorious ;  I  read  a  note  in  the 
moonlight  with  the  most  perfect  ease,  and  there  was  shed  over  every  object 
a  subdued  brightness,  which,  with  the  perfect  calm  and  silence  everywhere, 
gave  the  whole  scene  a  marvellous  beauty.  We  passed  up  steep  narrow 
streets,  the  houses  so  oriental-looking,  with  flat  roofs  and  every  variety 
of  balcony  —  quite  Moorish.  We  stood  before  the  palace  and  church 
of  the  old  knights,  and  could  distinguish  every  tracery  of  the  Sara- 
cenic architecture,  which  all  seemed  as  if  erected  yesterday.  We  reached 
at  last  the  Barrocca,  where  there  is  a  famous  view  of  the  great  harbour,  and 
were  admitted  into  the  battery  through  the  favour  of  the  gunner.  We  then 
gazed  down  on  the  dark  water,  with  dark  ships  of  war  asleep,  and  the  dia- 
mond brilliant  lights  of  boats  skimming  along,  from  which  a  Maltese  song 
was  heard  from  the  boatmen,  every  note  ringing  through  the  elastic  air. 
Batteries,  batteries  everywhere ;  huge  white  walls  of  solid  rock,  precipices 
in  lines  and  angles,  and  rampart  above  rampart,  lined  with  huge  guns  that 
looked  down  into  the  harbour  and  were  surrounded  by  piles  of  shot ;  end- 
less— endless  walls  and  bastions,  that  made  one  giddy  to  look  down,  all 
gleaming  in  the  moonlight,  with  sentinels  pacing  in  silence,  their  bayonets 
glancing,  and  the  English  voice  alone  heard,  '  Who  goes  there  V  You  can 
have  no  idea  what  a  poem  it  was  !  We  came  at  last  to  the  bastion  on  which 
Lord  Hastings  is  buried,  and  I  cannot  tell  you  what  I  felt  as  I  stood  beside 
his  mausoleum,  with  the  white  marble  statue  of  a  figure  reclining  upon  a 
couch.  I  could  trace  his  features  in  the  moonlight,  so  sweet  and  sad.  How 
the  whole  scene  became  mingled,  you  know  how,  with  my  past  life  as  con- 
nected with  his  widow  and  family  !     I  felt  so  thankful  to  have  seen  it. 

"I  was  immensely  impressed  also  by  such  buildings  as  the  Library  of  the 
Knights  and  the  Palace  of  the  Grand  Master,  now  the  Governor's  residence. 
It  does  one's  heart  good  to  be  made  to  realize  the  existence  of  men  of  taste 
and  power  like  these  knights,  whom  God  raised  up  to  judge  Israel  and  to 
defend  the  Church  from"  the  Bhilistine  Turks.  In  Scotland  we  forget  all 
that  was  here  done  by  God,  'in  various  times  and  divers  manners,'  for  the 
good  of  the  Church  and  of  the  world.  We  know  more  about  the  Burghers 
and  Anti-Burghers  than  about  these  grand  knights  who  did  their  part  so 
well,  but  who,  when  they  had  done  this,  were  removed  for  something  better." 

To  his  Children  : — 

"  Feom  Jaffa. 

"  Dr.  Philip,  the  missionary,  was  waiting  for  us,  and  had  horses,  so  we 
set  off  to  his  farm.  It  was  a  lovely  starry  night,  without  a  moon.  We 
passed  through  lanes  of  Cactus  or  prickly  pear,  in  some  places  fifteen  feet 
high,  on  every  side  orange  groves,  and  the  whole  air  filled  with  the  croaking 
of  frogs. 

"  This  has  been  another  delightful  day,  full  of  interest  and  enjoyment. 
This  family  is  so  nice.  There  are  four  girls.  They  have  just  been  sitting 
on  my  knee  and  saying,  '  Oh,  do  tell  another  story.'  I  have  played  '  London 
town'  with  them,  and  given  them  such  a  tickling  !  I  have  also  swallowed 
the  tumbler,  and  done  all  my  tricks,  and  let  off  a  Roman  candle  to  amuse 
them. 


1SG4— 65.  307 

"  The  roof  of  the  house  is  flat,  and  I  went  up  on  it.  What  a  view  !  To 
the  west  the  blue  sea,  to  the  east  the  hills  of  Judea.  The  house  itself  is  on 
the  plain  of  Sharon.  Within  a  mile  is  Jaffa,  where  Peter  lived  with  Simon 
the  tanner,  and  had  the  vision,  and  where  he  healed  Dorcas.  The  road  is 
close  to  the  garden  alon^  which  he  must  have  travelled  to  Cesarea  to  meet 
the  Centurion ;  and  to  the  south  we  could  see  Lydda,  where  he  healed  Eneas 
who  was  sick  of  the  palsy. 

"Our  first  encampment  was  very  picturesque.  We  had  a  beautiful,  im- 
mense tent  with  five  nice  iron  beds,  carpets,  bath,  wax  candles,  and  a  superb 
dinner  of  several  courses,  with  dessert,  &c.  But  for  sleep !  The  donkeys 
braying,  horses  kicking,  camels  groaning,  Arabs  chattering,  and  the  fleas 
and  muscpiitoes  biting  !  Fatigue  alone  could  make  us  sleep.  But  since  then 
we  sleep  famously.  With  our  camels,  asses,  and  horses  we  make  a  good 
appeai-ance.  We  have  dragoman,  cook,  servant,  and  horsekeeper,  with 
camel  drivers,  who  sleep  on  the  ground  beside  their  noble  animals.  Meeki, 
the  master  of  the  horses  and  asses,  rides  in  front,  and  the  Dragoman  Hassan 
rides  behind. 

"  But  I  must  tell  you  of  our  first  view  of  Jerusalem  ! 

"  It  was  about  four  when  we  reached  the  plain  before  Gibeon,  and  saw 
Neby  Samuel,  or  Mizpeh.  It  took  about  half  an  hour's  riding  to  get  up  to 
the  top  of  Mizpeh.  We  ascended  to  the  summit  of  the  Mosque,  once  a 
church,  and  there  ! — such  a  sight  as  remains  for  life  on  the  memory.  There 
was  Jerusalem  !  .   .  .  . 

"  The  nearness  of  these  places  struck  me.  But  the  grand  feature,  which 
took  me  quite  by  surprise,  was  the  huge  wild  wall  of  the  Dead  Sea  moun- 
tains glowing  red  in  the  setting  sun — so  wild,  so  majestic  a  setting.  And 
then  all  these  towns  in  sight,  with  such  memories  !  Below  us  was  Gibeon 
with  its  memory,  and  the  plain  at  our  feet  where  the  battle  took  place,  and 
the  steep  descent  down  which  Joshua  drove  the  enemy,  and  then  farther 
down  the  plain  of  Philistia  and  the  sea,  Carmel  in  the  distance.  Was  it 
not  marvellous'?  How  many  had  seen  Jerusalem  from  this  point!  Here 
Cceur  De  Lion  first  saw  it,  and  millions  more. 

"  We  rode  into  Jerusalem  by  St.  Stephen's  Gate,  with  Olivet  to  the  left, 
Gethsemane  below.  I  took  off  my  hat,  and  in  my  heart  blessed  God,  as  my 
horse's  hoofs  clattered  through  the  gate." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"Jerusalem,  Palm  Sunday,  20th  March. 

"  I  went  out  this  morning  to  the  Mount  of  Olives  about  ten  o'clock. 
The  morning  was  hot  but  not  sultry.  I  walked  down  the  Via  Dolorosa, 
as  every  street  in  Jerusalem  may  well  be  called,  if  filth  and  rubbish  may 
be  called  dolorous.  I  went  out  by  St.  Stephen's  Gate,  crossed  the  Kedron, 
and  ascended  Olivet  on  the  Bethany  road  until  I  reached  the  top  where 
Christ  wept  over  Jerusalem.  There  I  paused.  The  spot  is  certain.  I  sat 
there  and  read  Mark  xiii.  (see  v.  3).  You  can  tell  within  a  few  yards 
where  He  stopped  and  gazed.  All  was  perfect  silence.  The  birds  were 
singing  among  the  olives,  and  bee  hummed  from  flower  to  flower.  Opposite 
was  the  city,  from  which  no  sound  proceeded.  Yet  I  could  have  made  my 
words  heard  by  any  one  standing  on  the  Temple  area.  There  was  a  holy 
stillness  In  the   scene  quite  indescribable.     I  then   walked  slowly  over  a 


308  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

part  of  Olivet  until  tlie  road  above  Bethany  appeared.  It  -wound  below 
me.  Along  it  that  procession  had  come  on  Palm  Sunday.  Along  it  He 
led  his  disciples  on  the  day  of  the  ascension,  and  from  the  point  in  sight 
above  the  village  He  probably  ascended.  I  knelt  down  and  prayed  among 
the  olives,  and  thanked  God  for  all  my  marvellous  mercies,  and  commended 
you  all  to  His  care,  and  dedicated  myself  anew  to  His  service.  I  retraced 
my  steps,  and  descended  to  the  Kedron  through  the  vast  burial-place  of  the 
Jews.  It  is  an  old  tradition  with  them  that  here  is  to  be  the  Day  of 
Judgment,  and  that  to  this  spot  all  souls  must  pass  through  the  earth.  To 
save  trouble,  they  are  here  buried.  The  hill  side  is  paved  with  grave-stones 
all  directed  towards  the  Temple,  and  having  Hebrew  inscriptions.  Hun- 
dreds and  thousands  lie  here.  Jews  from  every  quarter  of  the  globe, 
Rabbins  and  rascals,  men  of  God  and  men  of  gold,  have  sought  a  resting- 
place  here  ever  since  the  destruction  of  the  Temple.  I  never  saw  such  a 
valley  of  dry  bones.  It  reaches  up  nearly  to  the  spot  where  Christ  wept 
over  Jerusalem,  and  is  at  once  a  sad  comment  on  His  tears,  and  yet  re- 
bukes one  when  in  despair  it  is  said  of  the  Jews,  '  Can  these  dry  bones 
live  1 ' 

"  I  passed  Gethsemane,  but  did  not  enter.  It  is  surrounded  by  a  high 
wall,  and  is  laid  out  like  a  cafe  restaurant.  I  don't  believe  in  it,  so  I  passed 
on  farther  up  the  valley,  until  I  reached  a  spot  which  was  interesting  to 
me  as  one  which  would  have  answered  all  the  requirements  of  Calvary 
more  than  any  I  have  seen 

"There  is  really  nothing  interesting  in  Jerusalem  itself.  All  the  streets 
are  narrow  lanes,  like  the  closes  in  Edinburgh  ;  some  of  them  covered  over 
to  keep  the  heat  out,  some  paved  with  slippery  stones,  some  rough  earth. 
At  the  church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  I  was  most  profundly  touched  by 
watching  the  pilgrims  who  crushed  in  and  out.  They  were  mostly  Rus- 
sians and  Copts,  with  Greeks  from  the  Levant.  Oh  !  what  faces,  what 
marvellous  faces,  dresses  and  expressions !  One  was  carried  centuries 
back.  The  intense  and  affectionate  devotion  with  which  some  kissed  the 
sepulchre  was  to  me  very  touching.  It  was  as  a  God  to  them.  There  are 
at  present  some  English  devotees,  male  and  female,  here,  half  puppies,  half 

superstitious.     In  this  hotel  is  a  Mr.  ,  who   signs   himself  '  Priest   of 

the  Church  of  England,'  who  seems  to  be  father  confessor  to  an  elderly  rich 
lady.  They  walk  with  candles  in  the  processions,  and  attend  all  the  ser- 
vices. But  I  have  no  time  to  tell  you  of  the  odd  half-cracked  characters 
who  come  to  this  city.  '  The  Church,'  '  The  Jews,'  '  The  Millennium  '  are 
the  crotchets.     The  Jews  and  the  Moslems  have  their  crazes  also." 

To  his  Sister  Jane  ; — 

"Fkom  Nazareth,  March  24th,  18G4. 

"  An  hour  ago  I  left  my  tent  and  paced  slowly  along  a  path  which  led 
to  a  low  ridge  of  hills,  or  '  a  brae  face.'  The  moon  was  shining  gloriously 
among  the  stars,  our  own  northern  stars,  in  a  cloudless  sky.  I  sat  down 
and  gazed  on  a  small  town  which  clasped  the  low  hills  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  narrow  valley,  like  a  necklace  of  white  coral.  At  one  end,  and 
down  in  the  valley  a  few  hundred  yards,  were  the  lights  from  our  tents, 
which,  in  the  pure  air,  scintillated  like  diamonds.  Not  a  sound  was  heard 
but  the  barking  of  dogs,  and  the  croaking  of  frogs.     You  can  understand 


1864—65.  309 

my  feelings  bettor  than  I  can  describe  them  when  I  tell  you  that  the  vil- 
lage was  Nazareth  !  And  you  can  sympathize  with  me  when  I  say  to  you 
that,  after  gazing  awhile  in  almost  breathless  silence,  and  thinking  of  Him 
who  had  there  lived  and  laboured  and  preached;  and  seeing  in  the  moon- 
light near  me  the  well  of  the  city  to  which  ITo  and  Mary  had  often  come, 
and,  farther  ofF,  the  white  precipice  over  which  they  had  threatened  to  cast 
Him ;  and  then  tracing  in  my  mind  the  histories  connected  with  other 
marvellous  scenes  in  His  life,  until  '  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  King  of  the  Jews  ' 
died  at  Jerusalem,  and  all  the  inexpressibly  glorious  results  since  that  day 
which  have  made  the  name  of  this  place  identical  with  the  glory  of  the 
world  ;  and  when  I  thought  of  all  that  I  and  others  dear  to  me  had  received 
from  Him,  and  from  all  He  was  and  did,  you  will  not  wonder  that  I  knelt 
down  and  poured  out  my  soul  to  God  in  praise  and  prayer.  And  in  that 
prayer  there  mingled  the  events  of  my  past  life,  and  all  my  friends  whom  I 
loved  to  mention  by  name,  and  my  dear  father,  and  the  old  Highlands,  the 
state  of  the  Church  and  of  the  world,  until  I  felt  Christ  so  real,  that  had 
He  appeared  and  spoken,  it  would  not  have  seemed  strange.  I  returned 
more  solemnized  than  from  the  Communion,  and  bless  God  for  such  an 
hour.  Disappointed  with  Palestine  !  I  cannot  tell  you  what  it  has  been 
to  me,  more,  far,  far  more  than  I  anticipated.  It  has  been  a  Holy  Land, 
every  step  of  it.  I  have  drunk  instruction  and  enjoyment  by  every  pore. 
I  don't  care  for  the  towns,  for  they  are  not  the  towns,  but  totally  different — 
but  the  sites  of  them,  the  views  from  them,  the  relationship  of  one  to 
another  !  Oh  !  it  is  inexpressibly  delightful.  Think  only  of  this  one  daj'. 
From  an  old  tower  in  Jezreel  I  looked  out  at  one  window ;  there  was 
Gilboa  beside  me,  and  below,  gleaming  in  the  sunshine,  the  well  of  Gideon, 
and  beyond  Bethshan,  where  the  bodies  of  Saul  and  Jonathan  were  hung 
up,  and  the  ridge  of  Little  Hermon,  over  which  Saul  went  to  Endor,  and 
beyond  the  hills  of  Gilead,  and  the  plain  up  which  Jehu  drove,  and  the 
spot,  or  very  near  it,  where  Naboth's  vineyard  must  have  been.  From 
another  window  was  Little  Hermon,  and,  in  a  green  nook,  Shunem.  From 
another  window  Taanach,  Megiddo  and  Carmel;  while  the  glorious  plain  of 
Esdraelon,  dotted  with  Bedawin  tents  and  flocks,  stretched  around  !  Then 
in  an  hour  after  we  entered  Nain,  and  gazed  on  Tabor  beside  us ;  and  after 
remaining  at  Nain,  and  reading  the  story  of  the  blessed  miracle,  we  crossed 
the  plain,  and  for  an  hour  wound  our  way  through  the  little  glens  (so  like 
the  Highlands)  of  the  mountains  of  Galilee,  until  we  came  to  this  sweet 
retired  nest  among  the  lovely  knowes.  What  a  day  in  a  man's  life  !  and  yet 
it  is  but  one  of  many. 

"  Faster  Sunday. — I  have  come  down  from  the  ruins  of  the  old  Castle  of 
Safed.  The  day  is  glorious,  and  more  so  from  there  having  been  deluges  of 
rain  all  night  and  this  morning,  and  masses  of  cumuli  clouds  break  the  blue 
space  of  the  sky,  and  cast  on  the  landscape  deep  shadows  that  relieve  the 
eye  from  the  usual  glare.  I  was  seated  on  the  highest  point  of  a  hill  which 
sweeps  up  from  the  Lake  of  Tiberias  nearly  three  thousand  feet,  and  is  en- 
circled by  the  town  of  Safed,  and  crowned  with  the  grand  ruins  of  the  old 
Crusader  castle.  Below  lay  the  Lake  of  Tiberias,  still  and  calm  ;  the  green 
plain  of  Genesareth,  with  the  ruins  of  Magdala,  and  probably  Capernaum, 
below  us  round  a  bay.  On  the  opposite  side  was  the  valley  where  the 
miracle  of  the  Gadarene  demoniac  took  place.     The  end  of  the  lake  where 


310  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

the  Jordan  enters  the  lake,  and  where  Bethsaida  was,  was  concealed  by  a 
hill  ;  but  there  below  lay  the  immortal  lake  itself — the  most  famous  lake  in 
the  world — about  which  I  need  not  speak  to  you — and  when  looking  at  it, 
could  hardly  speak  to  any  one.  Beyond  the  lake  stretched  the  tabledand 
of  the  Hauran  on  to  the  horizon.  The  green  valley  of  the  Jordan  was  seen 
at  the  south  end.  To  the  right  was  Tabor,  and  the  mountains  of  Galilee 
and  Samaria  farther  away,  with  sunlight  and  cloud  and  shadows  over  them. 
"  It  was  my  last  look  of  Tiberias,  and,  with  it,  of  the  true  Holy  Land. 
I  can  trace  Christ's  steps  no  more.  I  had  sailed  on  Tiberias,  Friday  evening 
(Good  Friday),  and  at  our  request  the  fishermen  let  down  their  net  for  a 
draught  and  caught  nothing,  though  they  often  get  great  hauls.  We  rode 
along  its  shores  past  Magdala,  and  now  I  have  bidden  it  far  well  for  ever  in 
this  life.  I  felt  to-day  as  when  taking  my  last  look  of  Jerusalem,  as  if  it 
were  the  last  look  of  some  beloved  friend,  whom,  however,  I  hope  to  see 
purified  and  renewed  in  the  new  heavens  and  the  new  earth.  My  heart  is 
full  as  I  say  farewell.  I  shall  see  the  Lebanon,  Sidon,  Damascus  and  other 
places,  but  not  such  holy  spots  as  I  have  been  gazing  on  with  prayer  and 
praise  :  spots  in  which  heaven  and  earth,  men  and  angels,  have  met,  and  in 
which  things  have  taken  place  and  words  have  been  uttered,  which  have 
moulded  the  history  of  the  world  and  will  be  more  famous  in  eternity  than 
in  time,  and  among  saints  in  Heaven  than  among  sinners  on  earth." 


To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

*:Feom  Athens. 

"  I  am  so  thankful  to  have  seen  this  after  Palestine.  It  does  not  lessen 
my  first  love.  It  completes  the  circle  of  the  past — Paul  and  the  Areopagus 
unite  the  two.     There  are  many  striking  contrasts  between  them. 

"  When  I  look  over  the  landscape  from  the  Acropolis,  or  journey  over 
the  country  around,  there  is  not  a  village  near,  nor  a  ruin,  nor  spot,  with 
the  exception  of  Salamia  and  Marathon,  that  is  famous  for  any  great  fact 
which  the  world  knows  of  or  feels  interested  in.  In  Palestine  every  hill 
and  village  is  alive  with  history.  It  is  Athens  alone — there  it  is,  the  whole 
country.  Then  again,  while  I  recognise  all  that  Athens  has  given  to  the 
world,  whether  of  art,  philosophy,  history,  poetry,  or  eloquence,  as  precious 
gifts  from  God,  a  grand  portion  of  the  education  of  our  race,  which  has  told 
as  no  other  has  done  on  the  culture  of  mankind — yet  how  different  in  kind, 
in  universality,  in  intensity,  has  been  the  influence  of  Palestine  !  An  old 
shepherd  who  lived  four  thousand  years  ago,  like  Abraham,  is  almost 
worshipped  by  the  Mahommedans,  Jews,  and  Christians,  and  is  known  as 
'  El  Khulil,'  the  Friend  of  God.  What  has  he  been — what  have  others  in 
Palestine  been — to  the  spirits  and  hearts  of  the  race  1  While  the  kings  and 
gods  of  Egypt  have  passed  away,  the  people  who  live  beneath  the  Acropolis 
know  him,  and  don't  know  the  names  even  of  their  mighty  dead  who  have 
nevertheless  immortalised  their  city.  There  are  thirty  marble  chairs  in  the 
Theaire  of  Dionysius,  which  were  the  official  seats  of  the  priests  of  Bacchus, 
and  of  the  different  village  or  parish  temples.  They  have  not  a  representa- 
tive on  earth  !  Athens  has  given  much  to  the  world  !  but  in  Palestine  the 
Father  was  revealed  to  it.  Thai  is  the  gift  of  gifts  to  the  whole  family  of 
man." 


1364—65.  311 

From  his  Jouknal  : — 

"May  1,  Sunday  Morning. — I  returned  Friday  night  from  my  tour.  I 
record  the  mercy  of  God  to  me  and  mine,  but  I  have  no  words  to  express 
what  that  lias  been.  I  have  had  one  of  the  most  glorious  tours  which  man 
can  have  in  this  world — Malta,  Alexandria,  Cairo,  Suez,  Joppa,  Jerusalem 
by  Bethoron,  Hebron,  the  Dead  Sea,  Marsaba,  north  to  Tiberias  by  Samaria, 
Nazareth,  Safed,  Sidon,  Beyrout,  Damascus,  Cyprus,  Rhodes,  Smyrna, 
Athens,  Marathon,  Constantinople,  and  home  by  the  Danube,  and  Vienna, 
Dresden,  Hanover.  I  have  not  had  an  hour's  ill  health  or  anxiety  of  mind. 
We  have  all  been  happy  and  enjoyed  everything  intensely.  I  cannot  count 
my  gains.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  searched  for  hid  treasure,  expecting  hundreds 
and  found  thousands.  And  then  at  home  the  mercy  has  been  so  wonderful. 
Everything  in  my  parish  has  gone  on  with  perfect  smoothness. 

"  And  now  the  desire  of  my  heart  is,  that  the  same  God  of  mercy  and 
grace  may  enable  me  to  turn  this  and  all  He  has  given  me  to  the  best 
possible  account  for  the  good  of  my  people  and  country.  May  I  be  able  to 
gather  up  the  fragments  of  time  that  remain  !  May  I  be  enabled  to  do 
good  to  my  fellow-men  by  word,  by  my  pen,  by  my  life  and  labour ;  to  live 
simply,  truly,  and  unselfishly ;  and  so  through  faith  in  God  to  be  carried 
through  the  battle  of  life  which  rages  loud  and  long  around  me,  among  the 
poor  and  ignorant  and  among  ecclesiastics  !  God  of  truth,  lead  me  into  all 
truth  !  God  of  power,  strengthen  me  !  God  of  wisdom,  direct  me  !  God 
of  love,  fill  my  heart !  And  grant  that  when  days  of  darkness  fall — when 
affliction  comes,  sickness,  or  weak  old  age,  I  may  be  strengthened  in  the 
faith  of  Thy  Fatherhood  by  recalling  the  marvellous  mercies  of  these  past 
months,  added  to  all  those  received  from  'Thy  hand,  when  verily  I  am  un- 
worthy of  the  least !  Amen  and  amen.  So  ends  a  memorable  period  of  my 
life! 

"  June  3,  One  a.m. — I  this  day  enter  my  fifty -second  year.  I  do  so 
blessing  and  praising  God." 

The  General  Assembly  of  this  year  unanimously  appointed  him  to 
the  Convenership  of  the  India  Mission ;  and  with  much  gratitude  for 
the  confidence  thus  reposed  in  him,  lie  determined  to  devote  his 
energies  to  its  advancement.  To  awaken  a  lively  interest  in  Mis- 
sionary affairs,  and  to  promote  a  more  effective  method  of  conducting 
them,  was  henceforth  to  be  one  of  the  great  works  of  his  life.  His 
journals  show  how  many  places  he  visited,  and  indicate  the  variety  of 
meetings  he  addressed  with  this  view,  but  they  convey  a  very 
inadequate  impression  of  the  time  he  had  to  spend  in  reading,  in  cor- 
respondence, and  in  anxious  thought. 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"June  12,  1864. — There  are  several  events  in  my  life  which  I  should 
like  to  record.  The  first  of  these  is  the  unanimous  offer — unsought  for  and 
unexpected,  God  knoweth — by  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Convenership 
of  the  India  Mission.  I  have  accepted  of  this  without  doubt,  though  not 
without  solemn  and  prayerful  consideration — for  I  have  tried,  at  least  for 
the  last  twenty-five  years,  to  accept  of  whatever  work  is  offered  to  me  in 


312  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

God's  providence.  I  have,  rightly  or  wrongly,  always  believed  that  a  man's 
work  is  given  to  him — that  it  need  not  so  much  be  sought  as  accepted — - 
that  it  is  floated  to  one's  feet  like  the  infant  Moses  to  Pharaoh's  daughter. 

"  Mission  work  has  been  a  possession  of  my  spirit  ever  since  I  became  a 
minister;  I  feel  that  God  has  long  been  educating  me  for  it.  I  go  forth 
tolerably  well  informed  as  to  facts,  and  loving  the  work  itself,  with  heart, 
soul,  and  strength.  I  accept  it  from  God,  and  have  perfect  confidence  in  the 
power  and  grace  of  God  to  give  us  the  men  and  the  money.  Thank  God 
for  calling  me  in  my  advanced  years  to  so  glorious  and  blessed  a  work. 

"We  want  men — God-loving  men.  These  are  to  be  obtained  chiefly 
through  prayer.  '  Pray  the  Lord  of  the  Harvest  to  send  forth  labourers.' 
We  want  money,  but  the  silver  and  gold  are  the  Lord's,  and  He  can  open 
up  every  purse,  and  my  hope  is  in  Him. 

"  It  is  my  intention  to  address  Presbyteries,  and  to  hold  public  meetings 
everywhere  for  aiding  the  glorious  work.  The  Lord  be  with  me  to  give  me 
the  Spirit  of  Christ  and  a  sound  mind  to  consider  my  brethren,  to  support 
the  weak,  to  be  patient  to  all,  to  help  the  weak  to  good,  and  to  trust  God 
for  the  increase,  while  we  plant  and  water  according  to  their  need. 

"  An  immense  deal  has  yet  to  be  done.  We  have  to  reconsider  the  whole 
idea  of  missions — the  preaching  mission,  and  how  to  preach  and  what  to 
preach,  so  as  to  get  at  the  Hindoo  and  Mussulman  mind  ;  the  teaching  mis- 
sion, and  how  the  child  is  to  be  treated  in  relation  to  his  heathen  parent ; 
the  tract  mission,  and  what  sort  of  tracts  India  needs  ;  the  healing  mission, 
and  the  place  which  hospital  and  alms-giving  should  hold.  We  have  to 
consider  the  organization  and  local  government  of  missions,  and  how  to 
build  up  congregations  so  as  to  bring  the  moral  power,  the  character,  and 
the  Christian  order  of  the  family  and  the  congregation  to  bear  on  the  work. 
We  have  to  consider  the  retiring  allowances  for  missionaries  and  the  sick, 
the  relationship  of  the  missions  of  one  Church  to  another,  etc.  The  Lord 
be  with  us  !  His  Spirit  can  do  it.  He  loves  it.  It  is  His  work.  We  are 
but  fellow-workers. 

"I  have  lost  a  dear  friend  in  Principal  Leitch.  Poor  dear  Boss  !  I  can- 
not think  of  the  world  as  henceforth  without  him — so  simple  and  true,  so 
loyal,  so  genuine  !  I  have,  with  very  few  exceptions,  no  such  friend  on 
earth — none  who  knew  my  failings  as  he  did,  none  to  cover  them  as  he  did, 
none  to  love  me  in  spite  of  them  as  he  did.  Well,  he  is  another  portion  of 
my  treasure  in  heaven  !  And  so  is  Tom  Baird,  the  carter,  the  beadle  of  my 
working-man's  church,  as  noble  a  fellow  as  ever  lived — God-fearing,  true, 
unselfish.  I  shall  never  forget  what  he  said  when  I  asked  him  to  stand  at 
the  door  of  the  working-man's  congregation,  and  when  I  thought  he  was 
unwilling  to  do  so  in  his  working  clothes.     '  If,'  said  1,  '  you  don't  like  to 

do  it,  Tom,  if  you  are  ashamed '     'Ashamed  !'  he  exclaimed  as  he  turned 

round  upon  me.  '  I'm  mair  ashamed  o'  yoursel',  sir.  Div'  ye  think  that  I 
believe,  as  ye  ken  I  do,  that  Jesus  Christ,  who  died  for  me,  was  stripped  o' 

his  raiment  on  the  cross,  and  that  I Ka,  na,  I'm  prood  tae  stan'  at 

the  door.'  Dear  good  fellow  !  There  he  stood  for  seven  winters  without  a 
sixpence  of  pay ;  all  from  love,  though  at  my  request  the  working  congre- 
gation gave  him  a  silver  watch. 

"  When  he  was  dying  from  small-pox,  the  same  unselfish  nature  appeared. 
When   asked  ii   they  would  let  me  know,  he  replied,   '  There's  nae  man 


1864     65.  313 

livin'  I  like  as  I  do  him.  I  know  lie  wad  come.  Put  he  shouldna  come  on 
account  of  his  wife  and  bairns,  and  so  ye  maun  na'  tell  him  !'  I  never  saw 
him  in  his  illness,  never  hearing  of  his  danger  till  it  was  too  late. 

"  This  India  mission  presses  itself  with  greater  solemnity  on  me  every  day  ; 
I  feel  Jesns  has  given  us  to  do  the  noblest  work  which  can  occupy  the 
energies  of  men  here  below  or  of  angels  above — not  foreign  missions  only, 
but  all  missions,  every  effort,  from  that  in  our  own  hearts,  our  own  families, 
our  congregations,  to  make  men  know  God,  and  thus  to  respond  to  His  own 
love.  All  our  difficulties  are  in  ourselves.  We  are  so  poor,  so  mean,  so 
cowardly ;  there  is  such  a  want  of  thorough  consecration,  which  is  just  a 
loving  spirit  of  true  liberty  and  perfect  peace.  It  alarms  me  greatly,  yet 
not  enough. 

"  I  will  labour  and  pray  for  the  establishment  of  strong  missions,  and, 
above  all, — above  all  for  men  who  peril  their  souls,  their  all  in  Christ !  Oh, 
for  godly  men  to  be  missionaries.  A  godly  man  has  God's  spirit  with  him 
to  guide  him,  direct  him,  bless  him.  This  is  the  all  in  all.  Such  a  man 
must  be  a  useful  man.  A  man  of  love,  real  and  genuine,  is  the  godly  man. 
Jesus  Christ,  Lord  of  the  Harvest,  for  this  I  pray  !  give  us  godly  missionaries  ! 
Lord,  I  believe ;  help  my  unbelief.  Oh,  my  Saviour,  bless  this  mission 
work  !     My  beloved  Saviour,  my  hope  is  in  Thee  ! 

"  I  wish  £10,000  a  year  at  least,  and  ten  men  at  least,  to  preach  Christ 
to  India.     If  I  had  not  faith  in  Christ  I  should  despair." 

To  his  Mother  : — 

"July  10th,  1SG4. 

"This  goes  merely  to  certify  to  you,  on  the  best  authority,  that  (1)  I 
have  addressed,  since  I  saw  you,  both  Presbyteries  and  public  meetings  at 
Dunoon,  Perth,  Dunkeld,  Cupar- Angus,  Forfar,  Cupar-Fife.  (2)  that  this 
week  I  have  to  do  ditto  at  Dunse,  Greenlaw,  Chirnside,  Linlithgow ;  (3) 
the  week  after  at  Galashiels,  Selkirk,  Kelso,  Hawick,  Melrose  ;  (4)  that  I 
am  not  suffering  from  sore  throat,  sore  back,  head,  heart,  lungs,  brain, 
nerves,  muscles,  sinews,  legs,  arms,  back,  neck,  heels,  toes — but  am  from  tip 
to  toe  jolly. 

"  My  work,  bless  God,  goes  on  beautifully.  All  so  kind  and  cordial.  I 
feel  more  thankful  than  I  can  tell,  and  I  am  in  perfect  peace  and  in  great 
feather." 

To  Dr.  Charteris  :— 

"  Sth  August,  1864. 

"  The  missionary  who  we  hoped  would  have  gone  withdraws,  as  his 
parents  say  '  No.'  Parental  affirmatives  are  generally  gladly  given  to  good 
money  prospects  in  the  East,  or  to  prospects  of  promotion,  with  the  chance 
of  a  bullet  through  the  brain  of  their  beloved. 

"  Faith,  if  not  dead,  sleepeth.  We  cannot  create  missionaries.  We  can 
pray  and  wait—  ay,  for  a  lifetime,  if  needs  be. 

"  It  would  in  the  end  be  a  rich  gain  to  the  Church  if  deep  silence  for 
years  was  the  only  response  to  her  call  for  missionaries,  and  that  this  brought 
Divinity  professors  and  ministers  to  their  knees  before  a  throne  of  grace. 

"  How  can  Christ  do  many,  or  any,  mighty  works,  if  there  be  no  faith1? 
How  can  He  give,  if  we  don't  as  a  Church  ask  like  men  in  earnest  V 


o 


14  LIFE   OF  N  OHM  AN  MACLEOD. 


From  his  Journal  : —  "Pitlol'HRIe. 

"Thursday,  the  anniversary  of  my  marriage.  We  went  up  Glen  Tilt, 
and  had  a  pic-nic  with  our  children  only ;  and,  amidst  the  glories  of  the 
earth,  rejoiced  that  they  were  born  into  such  a  world,  with  such  a  Father 
and  Saviour.  Oh  yes,  very,  very  thankful  were  we  both.  Oh,  my  Father, 
the  only  thing  I  dread  is  sin  in  my  darlings.  Good  Lord,  loving  Father, 
deliver  us  from  that  hell  ! 

"  We  had  another  fine  day  at  the  Loch,  and  all  ended  by  an  evening  in 
company  with  dear  John  Shairp,  at  the  river  side,  hearing  John  McPherson, 
the  piper,  play  out  his  glorious  pibrochs.  What  a  power  they  have  over  me  ! 
I  wept  like  a  child  hearing  them.  My  father  and  all  the  romantic  past 
mingled  with  their  every  nTte, 

"  My  children  are  a  source  of  unspeakable  blessing,  yet  Christian  anxiety. 
I  feel  more  and  more  that  there  is  a  life  totally  different  in  kind  from  the 
life  in  the  natural  man ;  a  life  in  the  Spirit,  which  must  be  begun  and 
developed  into  life  everlasting  by  God's  Spirit,  for  which  we  must  pray. 
How  solemn  is  the  fact  of  the  / — the  personality — the  out-of-us  individualism 
of  each  child  !  How  impossible  to  renew  the  soul  of  one  we  would  die  for. 
Oh,  my  Father,  it  is  Thy  work  !     We  cling  to  Thee. 

"  September  6. — Left  Saturday  morning  to  visit  the  Prince  of  Wales  at 
Abergeldie. 

"  It  is  a  glorious  Highland  residence.  The  golden  pillared  pines,  the 
royal  heather,  the  great  sweep  of  the  valley,  the  high  ranges,  the  quiet ! 

"  I  had  a  sweet  walk  in  the  forest. 

"  Left  on  Monday  at  1 1  for  Inverness,  and  have  had  meetings  at  Tain, 
500  or  600  present,  mostly  of  the  Free  Church. 

"  I  have  been  amazed  with  Ross  and  Sutheiland.  I  never  beheld  such  a 
combination  of  highly  cultivated  fields  with  good  wooding  and  picturesque 
scenery.  It  has  the  luxurious  cultivation  of  Kelso  with  the  scenery  of  the 
Highlands.  Yet  this  country  which  has  but  one  form  of  Church  govern- 
ment, one  confession  of  faith,  one  form  of  worship,  is  more  literally  divided, 
more  sectarian,  than  any  country  I  have  ever  been  in.  The  feelings  of  the 
Free  Church  to  the  Establishment  (for  it  is  chiefly  on  their  part,  beyond 
doubt)  are  hardly  equalled  by  those  of  the  Roman  Catholics  in  Galway  to  a 
Protestant  missionary,  or  those  of  the  Mohammedan  in  Damascus  to  a 
Christian.  So  it  has  been  hitherto,  and  that,  as  usual,  owing  to  the  clergy, 
those  sources  of  so  much  good  and  of  so  much  evil  to  the  Church  of  God. 

"  But  I  was  most  thankful  to  see  men  that  were  worthies  of  the  Free 
Kirk  come  to  my  meetings.  This  eased  my  heart.  I  prayed  God  to  be  able 
to  speak  truth,  that  would  reach  deeper  down  than  all  their  controversies, 
and  such  as  would  make  for  peace.  Would  that  my  brethren  would  con- 
centrate themselves  in  faith  on  doing  good  '  seeking  first  the  kingdom  of 
God,'  and  leaving  Christ  to  arrange  and  add  all  other  things  unto  them. 

"  A  Sutherland  missionary  to  India  would  be  a  blessing  to  all  of  them 
and  to  their  people. 

"  October  6. — Have  had  meetings  at  Inverary,  Falkirk,  and  Hamilton 
(Presbytery).     I  have  been  fagged,  bothered,  addled,  dowie." 

ToMrs.  Macleod  :—  "Aberdeen,  October  10th. 

"  I  have  a  short  time  before  I  address  the  Synod  at  two,  to  write  to  you. 


1864—65.  315 

I  don't  know  why  I  should  feel  so  very  much  fco-day  ;  hut  I  have  been  for 
two  hours  preparing  with  head  and  heart  to  speak  worthily  on  this  great 
subject.  My  heart  trembles  for  the  ark  of  God.  I  do  feel  this  to  be  a 
crisis  in  our  mission  history,  and  I  am  so  anxious.  In  proportion  as  I 
believe  in  the  certainty  of  success  if  we  seek  the  Lord,  and  humbly  endeav- 
our to  do  His  work,  in  that  proportion  I  feel  the  terrible  sin  and  eternal 
loss  if  it  is  not  done.  I  heard  Doctor  Duff'  last  night.  I  have  not  seen  him 
since  we  met  in  Paris,  long  ago,  at  the  Alliance,  nor  have  I  heard  him  since 
he  mado  his  great  speech  in  the  Assembly  of  '38.  He  is,  of  course,  older, 
and  visibly  feebler ;  but  that  very  feebleness  was  to  me  so  touchingly 
eloquent.  How  humbled  I  felt  before  him,  how  inwardly  I  revered  and 
blessed  the  old  soldier  of  the  cross.  I  have  desires  and  words,  weak  and 
feeble.     But  he  is  the  living  embodiment  of  work  done." 

To  a  Relative  who  had  announced  his  betrothal :  — 

"  Of  course  I  know  all  you  feel  and  all  you  think.  '  You  feel  that ' — of 
course  you  do — 'and  that  if' — of  course — 'and  that  no  man' — of  course — 
'  and  that  your  own  heart  can  tell ' — no  doubt  of  it — '  and  that  when  you 
came  home  last  night  you ' — who  denies  it  1 — '  and  that  the  solemnity  of — 
I  agree  with  you. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  dear  boy  !  No  one  more  deeply  sympathizes  with 
you." 

The  following  letter  was  written  after  opening  a  box  of  edible  fungi 
which  had  lain  in  the  house  for  some  days,  during  his  absence  from 
home,  having  been  sent  him  by  Dr.  Esdaile,  well  known  for  his  advo- 
cacy of  the  use  of  horseflesh,  and  for  his  experiments  in  pisciculture, 
and  still  better  known  for  his  heroic  and  successful  efforts  to  found  a 
College  for  Ministers'  Daughter* : 

To  the  Rev.  Dr.  Esdaile,  Rescobie  : — 

"  Oct.  25th,  1864. 

"  My  dear  Easdail — or  Esdale — or  Esdaile,  for  such  a  queer  fellow  can- 
not be  easily  made  out.  I  received  your  puddock  stools  after  I  i*eturned 
home  from  a  mission  tour.  As  holy  things,  or  as  noxious  things,  they  were 
set  aside  by  the  family,  with  mingled  feelings  of  awe,  mystery,  and  terror. 
That  death  was  in  the  box  was  obvious  to  the  senses — but  death  of  what  1 
Was  it  a  new  murder1?  A  man's  head,  or  a  whole  child,  or  a  leg  of  some 
Briggs  ]  I  myself  opened  the  box  with  one  careful  hand  while  I  held  my 
nose  with  another.  It  was  an  awful  evidence  of  the  doctrine  of  corruption ! 
But  not  of  the  will,  and  so  I  thank  you  heartily  for  your  goodwill  in  send- 
ing me  the  deadly  poison,  and  congratulate  myself  on  my  escape.  Why  did 
you  expect  the  Barony1?  Your  sermon  was  highly  acceptable  ;  but  why  kill 
the  parson  1  Esdaile !  you  know  what  you  are,  and  if  you  don't  stop  these 
savage  feastings  on  mare's  flesh  and  mushrooms,  I'll  have  you  up  as  a  witch 
or  murderer. 

"  Thanks  I  say  for  your  foul  intentions,  and  for  my  lucky  escape. 

"  Go  along  !  You  mushroom  wasting,  horseflesh  eating,  oyster  breeding, 
mussel  growing,  salmon  fishing,  Ministers'  daughters  training,  good  for 
everything  mortal." 


316  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

To  his  Mother  :— 

"I  have  been  every  night,  except  Saturday,  away  from  my  own  family! 
It  is  very  hard,  but  '  what  can  a  fellow  do  ¥ 

"  Dr.  Duff  has  written  me  a  very  kind  letter  to  meet  him  here  next 
week. 

"  The  Free  Kirk  have  subscribed  handsomely  to  my  mission. 

"  The  first  man  I  called  on  gave  me  £250  !  and  wrote  such  a  nice  note." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"Dec.  18. — I  was  invited  by  Prince  Alfred  to  spend  the  14th  Anniver- 
sary of  his  father's  death  with  him  at  Darmstadt.  The  Queen  commanded 
me  to  see  her  before  I  went,  io  on  Monday  I  went  to  Windsor.  I  told  her 
that  the  more  I  was  confided  in,  the  more  I  felt  my  responsibility  to  speak 
the  truth.  That  night  I  went,  via  Calais,  to  Darmstadt.  The  Prince 
joined  the  train  at  Bonn. 

"  To-day  (Sunday)  I  expounded  in  the  forenoon,  and  now  express  my 
grateful  thanks  to  my  Father,  my  guide,  my  help,  my  all,  for  His  morcy  to 
me  during  this  last  heavy  and  important  week. 

"  Oh,  let  me  never  lose  my  trust  in  Him,  or  be  afraid  of  accepting  any 
duty  imposed  on  me  in  His  Providence,  but  step  out  bravely  and  humbly 
at  His  bidding,  sure  of  His  blessing. 

"  I  have  during  the  past  year  been  pretty  steadily  in  my  own  pulpit,  but 
with  the  exception  of  visiting  the  sick,  I  have  been  able  to  do  little  parish 
work,  which  deeply  pains  me.  I  have  written  eleven  Sermons  for  Good 
Words  and  two  Articles  ;  prepared  some  of  the  memoir  of  my  father,  arid 
first  part  of  '  Home  Preacher.'  " 

To  A.  Straiian,  Esq.  : — 

,,  „.,    .  ,,     \  3\st  December,  1864, 
"Mtdmght,    \utJanuaryt'im, 

"  God  bless  you,  and  may  He  enable  you  and  me,  with  honest,  simple, 
believing,  and  true  hearts,  to  do  His  will,  and  come  weal  or  woe,  to  make 
Good  Words  a  means  of  doing  real  good  to  our  fellow-men,  and  so  pleasing 
our  Master  that,  when  time  shall  be  no  more,  He  will  receive  us  as  faith- 
ful servants.     Amen." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Jamiary  3rd. — Let  me  here  record,  as  throwing  some  light  on  the  folly 
of  presentiments  and  dreams,  the  following  facts,  without  the  slightest 
shadow  of  exaggeration. 

"  One  evening,  when  sitting  alone,  before  starting  by  a  night  train  for 
London,  I  got  into  an  unaccountably  depressed  state  of  mind.  The  thought 
came  that  I,  or  my  family,  might  be  entering  some  great  trial.  It  might 
be  a  railway  accident?-  Yes  ! — so  said  I  to  myself, — I  shall  for  the  first  time 
in  my  life  take  an  insurance  ticket  for  £1,000.  This  resolution  brought 
my  day  dream  to  a  conclusion,  and  I  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughing  at  my 
absurd  foreboding,  which  I  felt  was  from  over-work.  Wishing  to  change  a 
half-crown  to  pay  the  cab  before  taking  my  ticket,  I  put  one  down  at  the 
ticket  window,  and  without  speaking  a  word,  received  an  insurance  ticket 
for  £1,000  and  3d.,  I  think,   back.      I  hiving  forgotten  my  dream,  I  was 


1864—65.  317 

taken  all  aback,  and  started.  'I  never  asked  for  a  ticket,'  I  said,  and  was 
returning  it,  when  some  one  over  my  shoulder  said,  'I'll  take  it,  Doctor.' 
But  so  impressed  was  1  by  the  odd  coincidence  that  I  took  it  for  the  first 
(and  last)  time  in  my  life.  I  never  slept  moffe  soundly,  and  never  had  a 
safer  or  pleasanter  journey. 

(2.)  As  to  dreams.  The  night  before  last  I  awoke  out  of  a  horrible 
nightmare.  I  thought  the  house  was  burning — Johnnie's  room  on  fire,  and 
1  in  vain  trying  to  take  the  dear  boy  out  of  the  flames.  The  fact  of  his 
being  ill  since  Sunday  with  scarlatina  made  the  dream  more  painful.  I 
told  it  in  the  morning,  and  also  what  had  occasioned  it.  The  day  before, 
when  in  the  Barony,  I  was  thinking  what  I  should  do  if  the  church  was  on 
fire,  and  the  idea  for  a  few  minutes  quite  possessed  me,  as  any  day  it  might 
have  become  a  most  complicated  problem. 

"  After  telling  this  dream,  the  servant  who  slept  next  room  to  my  boy, 
both  doors  being  open,  told  me  he  had  sprung  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
and  cried  out  to  her  that  his  room  was  on  fire,  which  was  all  nonsense. 
Now,  on  examination,  I  found  that  my  brother  had  said  that  day,  in  his 
hearing,  to  my  wife,  that  the  only  reason  he  disliked  rooms  in  the  attics, 
like  his,  was  in  event  of  fire.      This  had  produced  his  dream." 

To  J.  M.  Ludlow,  Esq.  : — 

"Jan.,  1865. 

"  Here  am  I  with  an  Indian  mission  to  conduct,  addressing  congrega- 
tions, Presbyteries  and  Synods,  a  committee  to  manage,  papers  to  write,  cor- 
respondence to  carry  on,  missionaries  to  send  out  and  to  buy  their  outfit,  to 
finger  shirts  and  examine  towellings,  to  visit  my  people  two  days  a  week, 
preach  thrice,  teach  a  class  every  Sunday,  collect  money  to  build  schools 
and  churches  (at  the  rate  of  £1,000  a  year  for  14  years),  to  hear  every  man 
and  woman  who  call  on  me  about  everything  down  to  a  sore  finger,  besides 
having  to  rear  a  family  and  keep  my  liver  right.     High  art !" 

From  his  Journal  :— 

"  Heard  of  Lincoln's  death.  It  will,  under  God,  be  a  huge  blessing  to 
the  North,  and  be  the  ending  of  the  accursed  South. 

"  Had  Lee  or  Jeff.  Davies  been  assassinated,  what  a  howl  !  This  is  a 
mighty  era  in  the  world's  history.  I  am  ashamed  of  my  country.  This 
sympathy  with  the  South  is  an  inscrutable  mystery  to  me  ;  I  cannot  make 
it  out.  But  I  fear  we  shall  have  to  suffer  for  our  grievous  pride.  I  still 
hope  that  America  will  be  our  noblest  and  staunchest  ally. 

"  Oh  that  the  Churches  would  rise  in  their  strength  above  mere  politics, 
and  say  before  God,  we  shall  be  one  in  heart  for  the  good  of  the  world  ! 

"  I  have  never  swerved  in  my  sympathy  with  the  North,  and  I  believe 
the  day  is  not  far  off  when  we  shall  hardly  believe  that  Britain's  sympathy 
was  with  the  South.  Oh,  my  country  !  Oh,  Christian  Churches  !  Repent 
in  dust  and  ashes  ! 

"I  cannot  comprehend  man's  blindness  on  this  question  !  I  rejoice  in 
the  unity  and  prosperity  of  the  grand  Republic  ;  its  strength  is  a  blessed 
counterpoise  to  continental  despotism  and  mere  king-craft.  I  have  the 
brightest  hopes  of  its  future,  hut  chiefly  through  the  influence  of*  its 
Churches.  It  is  to  me  a  mystery  thut  Britain  does  not  rejoice  in  America. 
I  do." 


318  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

The  innovations  in  public  worship  introduced  by  Dr.  Robert  Lee, 
Minister  of  Greyfriars,  Edinburgh,  most  of  which  were  simply  resto- 
rations of  the  earlier  usage  of  the  Church,  were  now  agitating  the 
ecclesiastical  mind  of  the  country  and  formed  the  chief  topic  of  dis- 
cussion at  the  Assembly  of  1865.  Public  opinion  since  then  has  so 
much  changed  in  reference  to  such  matters,  that  it  is  difficult  to  realise 
the  excitement  which  was  produced  by  the  use  of  read  prayers  and 
instrumental  music,  or  to  believe  that  it  was  for  a  time  doubtful 
whether  the  Church  would  tolerate  any  changes  in  her  service,  such  as 
the  increasing  culture  of  the  country  every  day  demanded  more 
loudly.  Dr.  MacLeod  was  a  member  of  this  Assembly,  as  might  have 
been  expected,  warmly  espoused  the  side  of  progress. 

"I  would  like  very  much  to  know  who  'our  fathers'  are  to  whom  there 
have  been  so  many  allusions  during  the  discussion.  If  reference  is  made  to 
those  respectable  gentlemen  in  bob-wigs  that  used  to  sit  here  last  century, 
and  if  it  is  assumed  that  everything  they  did  then  is  to  regulate  us  now,  let 
that  be  plainly  asserted.  Some  of  these  men,  doubtless,  did  much  good  in 
their  day,  and  some  of  them  did  very  little.  But  to  say  that  we  are  to  be 
mled  by  all  that  they  did  would  be  just  as  absurd  as  if  in  the  year  2000  all 
progress  was  to  be  stopped  by  some  earnest  men  quoting  the  opinions  of 
'  the  fathers'  of  this  generation.  I  should  tremble  at  myself  standing  up  to 
address  this  House,  if  there  was  a  prospect  of  my  acting  as  an  incubus — an 
actual  ghost — for  all  generations,  and  to  be  called  '  a  father.'  I  take  no 
such  responsibility  on  myself.  All  I  wish  is  to  help  the  present  as  our 
fathers  helped  our  past,  and  as  I  hope  our  grandchildren  will  help  our 
future.  Let  us  have  no  more  appeals  to  the  fathers,  but  look  at  the  ques- 
tion in  the  light  of  common  sense. 

"  You  speak  of  the  fathers  of  the  Church,  but  I  go  back  to  a  true  father 
of  the  Church — the  Apostle  Paul.  I  do  not  know  what  he  would  think  if 
he  were  nowadays  to  come  amongst  us.  Would  he  not,  in  all  probability, 
be  put  down  as  a  latitudinarian  1  I  fear  very  much  whether  some  of  us 
could  really  understand  a  man  who  became  a  Jew  to  the  Jews,  and  a  Gen- 
tile to  the  Gentiles,  not  for  the  love  of  popularity,  which  was  what  he 
most  thoroughly  despised,  but  '  that  he  might  gain  some.'  I  am  afraid 
there  are  some  among  us  who  would  not  comprehend  him  if  he  said,  '  One 
man  esteemeth  one  day  above  another,  another  man  esteemeth  every  day 
alike  ;  let  every  man  be  persuaded  in  his  own  mind.'  They  would  be 
unable  to  comprehend  a  man  who  knew  from  God,  as  an  absolute  certainty, 
that  there  was  nothing  unclean,  but  could  yet  have  the  grand  and  noble 
charity  to  say,  '  To  him  that  thinketh  it  unclean  to  him  it  is  unclean.'  I  ques- 
tion if  they  could  understand  a  man  who  could  say,  '  The  kingdom  of  God  is 
not  meat  and  drink,  but  righteousness  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost ;' 
and  '  he  that  serveth  Christ  in  these  things  is  acceptable  to  God  and  ap- 
proved of  men.'  I  do  not  know  whether  Paul  would  have  made  all  the 
office-bearers  sign  the  Confession  of  Faith — Fhcebe,  the  deaconess  for  ex- 
ample— but  I  am  sure  of  this,  that  he  of  all  the  fathers  of  the  Church  that 
ever  lived,  not  only  in  his  preaching  but  his  life,  carried  out  the  old  adage, 
'  In  things  essential,  unity ;  in  things  indifferent,  liberty ;  in  all  things, 
charity.'     Now  it  is  this  spirit  which  should  guide  the  Church  of  Scotland; 


1864—65.  319 

and  I  think  that  much  of  our  sectarianism  might  have  been  prevented  if  we 
had  had  a  little  more  consideration  for  the  feelings  and  opinions  of  others, 
and  if,  instead  of  digging  a  ditch  round  us,  and  bragging  how  much  we 
differed  from  every  other  Church  on  earth,  Ave  had  made  a  few  more  bridges, 
and  had  shown  a  little  more  catholic  feeling  towards  other  ('lunches  on 
earth  ;  if,  instead  of  looking  to  our  individual  selves,  we  had  looked  more  to 
the  feelings  and  opinions  of  the  country.  For  the  very  genius  of  our  Na- 
tional Church  ought,  in  my  opinion,  to  be  inclusiveness,  as  far  as  possible, 
and  not  exclusiveness. 

" I  think,  as  a  Church,  we  ought,  with  the  other  Presby- 
terian Churches  in  this  country,  to  hold  firm  by  our  historical  past,  for  all 
that  is  great  and  good  in  a  nation  has  its  root  in  the  past.  Let  us  hold 
fast  by  that  which  is  good  in  the  past ;  and  as  our  system  of  Presbytery  is 
good,  let  us  hold  fast  by  its  form  of  goveimment.  And  in  reference  to  that 
I  beg  to  say,  in  passing,  that  there  never  was  a  greater  delusion  than  to 
imagine  that  the  wish  to  have  an  organ,  or  a  more  cultivated  form  of  wor- 
ship, has  anything  to  do  with  Episcopacy.  So  far  from  this,  I  believe  these 
improvements  will  serve  to  keep  back  Episcopacy ;  and,  under  any  circum- 
stances, I  make  bold  to  say,  as  a  minister  of  the  National  Church  of  Scot- 
land, that  I  think  it  is  my  duty,  as  well  as  in  accordance  with  my  feelings, 
to  stretch  out  a  kind  hand  to  every  Scotchman,  and,  if  I  could,  a  kind  and 
protecting  hand  to  every  Church  in  this  kingdom. 

"  I  say,  further,  led  us  hold  fast  and  firm  by  our  Confession  of  Faith. 
But  I  really  wish  that  gentlemen  would  feel  the  delicacy  of  these  questions 
of  tests  and  signatures,  and  not  be  perpetually  dragging  up  this  subject.  I 
do  not  know  at  this  moment  any  one  question  that  requires  finer  handling, 
so  to  speak. 

'*  I  desire  to  see  retained  our  whole  Confession  of  Faith  as  the  expression 
of  the  Church's  faith  in  the  past  and  in  the  present.  But  do  not  let  us  be 
the  Church  of  the  past  merely,  let  us  also  be  the  Church  of  the  present  and 
the  Church  of  the  future ;  and  this  I  will  boldly  maintain,  that  we  are  the 
freest  Church  at  this  moment  in  Scotland.  I  think  honestly  we  are.  I 
know  our  respected  brethren  who  left  us  do  not  repent  doing  so,  and  that 
there  is  not  a  step  they  have  taken  which  they  would  not  honestly  and 
calmly  take  again.  But  I  say  also,  neither  do  I  repent  for  a  moment  the 
position  I  have  occupied,  but  would  calmly  give  over  again  every  vote  I 
have  given,  and  take  again  every  step  I  have  taken .  I  believe  that  God 
is  over-ruling  all  this  for,  perhaps,  a  higher  good  than  we  are  looking  to. 
But,  as  an  Established  Church,  we  are  limited  by  a  Constitution — a  noble 
Constitution — which  secures  us  freedom,  because  giving  us  security  at  once 
against  the  tyranny  of  the  State  and  the  tyranny  of  the  clergy ;  and  within 
the  limits  of  the  Constitution  we  have  freedom  at  this  moment  to  examine 
all  questions  brought  before  us,  and  to  express  our  judgment  upon  them, 
moulding  the  Church  to  meet  the  wants  of  the  country  as  it  now  is.  It  is 
on  the  broad  ground  of  our  calling  as  a  National  Church,  and  the  liberty 
we  have  as  a  National  Church,  that  I  would  desire  to  entertain  with  kind- 
ness and  though tfulness  all  these  questions  when  we  are  desired  by  any  por- 
tion of  the  people  to  do  so." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  The  Assembly  of  '65  ia  over.     One  of  the  most  reactionary  since  '43. 


320  LIFE   OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

"  The  one  great  evil  I  see  in  both  Assemblies,  and  more  especially  in 
chat  of  the  Free  Church,  is  not  so  much  any  decision  they  may  have  come 
to  on  such  a  question  as  organs,  which  is  an  odd  one  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, as  the  spirit  of  both. 

"  There  is  too  little  freedom  to  speak  in  sober  truth  against  anything 
which  the  majority  approves  of.  There  are  suspicious  whisperings,  up  to 
the  howls  of  an  '  orthodox'  (help  the  mark  !)  brass  band,  against  any  man 
Md\o  presumes  to  question,  doubt,  or  differ  regarding  non-essentials,  young 
men  are  terrified  lest  they  should  be  considered  '  dangerous,'  '  doubtful,' 
'  broad,'  ' latitudinarian,'  'liberal,'  '  not  safe.'  And  so  men  who  think  little 
on  public  questions,  by  simply  hissing  and  crying,  '  Vote,  vote,'  easily  and 
without  sacrifice  get  a  reputation,  where  a  true  man  with  some  fair  and 
honest  doubt  on  certain  matters  is  despised.  The  great  snare  to  weak  con- 
sciences in  the  present  day  is  not  the  world  so  much  as  the  Church, 
so-called.  A  reformation  of  any  kind  appears  to  me  more  and  more  super- 
natural. 

"  But  Mrs.  Partington  cannot  sweep  the  ocean  back." 

To  J.  A.  Campbell,  Esq.  :— 

"I  have  been  at  Loudoun,  my  first  parish.  How  I  mourned  the  con- 
trast between  my  work  as  a  parish  minister  now  and  then  !  God  has  given 
me  other  things  to  do,  and  so  I  must  accept  of  them.  But  any  good  results 
from  wholesale  public  work  can  only  be  anticipated  by  faith,  while  the  per- 
sonal work  of  the  minister,  the  house  to  house,  face  to  face,  heart  to  heart 
work,  is  a  present,  immediate,  and  sure  reward.  Few  things  amaze  me 
more  than  the  tolerance  of  my  present  flock.  I  comfort  myself  by  belie v- . 
ing  that  God,  who  knows  all  the  outs  and  ins  between  us,  has  in  mercy 
spared  me  the  pain  of  seeing  them  distrusting  me  and  leaving  me.  Had 
they  done  so,  I  would  at  once  have  given  up  everything  else,  shut  off  all 
public  work,  and  fallen  back  on  the  pastoral.  It  needs  all  my  faith  not  to 
become  peevish  and  miserable  with  myself. 

"  I  had  a  long  call  from  David  Livingstone  last  week.  A  Yankee 
parson  was  in  the  drawing-room,  and  hearing  how  I  was  engaged,  insisted 
on  being  introduced.  He  came  down,  shook  hands  with  Livingstone,  say- 
ing, '  Sir — I  have  heard  of  you  ! '  " 

His  Journal  contains  a  deeply  interesting  account  of  the  interviews 
lie  had  with  Dr.  Pritcharcl,  while  this  notorious  criminal  was  lying 
under  sentence  of  death  for  poisoning  his  wife  and  mother-in-law  ; 
but  the  same  motives  of  regard  for  the  feelings  of  relatives  which 
■enjoined  silence  at  the  time,  still  exist  to  enforce  reserve  on  this  pain- 
ful subject. 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"Friday. — Please  do  not  excite  yourself  when  you  see  by  the  papers  that 
I  have  been  with  Pritchard  to  the  last.  I  thought  it  rather  cowardly  to 
let  Oldham  do  this  work  alone  when  we  had  shared  the  previous  portion  of 
it.  So  I  offered  to  go,  and  I  am  glad  I  did.  I  saw  it  all  from  first  to  last; 
was   with  him  in  his  cell,  and  walked  at  his  back  till  he  reached  the  scat- 


1864—65.  321 

fold.  As  to  his  behaviour,  strange  to  say,  no  patriot  dying  for  Lis  country, 
no  martyr  dying  for  his  faith,  could  have  behaved  with  greater  calmness, 
dignity,  and  solemnity  !  He  was  kind  and  courteous  (as  he  always  was)  to 
all.  Prayed  with  us  with  apparent  deep  earnestness.  Told  Oldham  to  tell 
his  sister  that  lie  repented  of  a  life  of  transgression,  was  glad  the  second 
confession  was  suppressed,  &c.  He  said  before  the  magistrates,  with  a  low- 
bow  and  most  solemn  voice,  'I  acknowledge  the  justice  of  my  sentence.' 
He  had  told  those  about  him  on  leaving  his  cell,  '  I  want  no  one  to  support 
me,'  and  so  he  marched  to  the  scaffold  with  a  deadly  pale  face  but  erect 
head,  as  if  he  mai-ched  to  the  sound  of  music.  He  stood  upright  and 
steady  as  a  bronze  statue,  with  the  cap  over  his  face  and  the  rope  round  his 
neck.     When  the  drop  fell,  all  was  quiet. 

"  Marvellous  and  complex  character  ! 

"  Think  of  a  man  so  firm  as  to  say,  smiling,  to  Oldham,  '  I  am  glad  you 
have  come  with  your  gown  and  bands  ! ' 

"  I  am  for  e  ^er  set  against  all  public  executions.  They  brutalise  the 
people,  and  1  ave  no  more  meaning  to  them  than  bull-baiting  or  a  gladia- 
torial combat. 

"  And  then  the  fuss,  the  babble  and  foam  of  gossip,  the  reporting  for  the 
press,  &c,  over  that  black  sea  of  crime  and  death  ! 

"  Strange  to  say,  I  felt  no  excitement  whatever,  but  calm  and  solemn. 
I  gazed  at  him  while  praying  for  his  poor  soul  till  the  last.  But  I  won't 
indulge  in  sensation  sketches.  May  God  forgive  all  my  poor  sinful  ser- 
vices, and  accept  of  me  and  mine  as  lost  sinners  redeemed  through  Jesus 
Christ ! " 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  My  church  was  shut  for  five  weeks  for  repair,  and  I  went  with  my 
family  to  Norwood. 

"  I  was  myself  depressed  as  the  re-action  from  previous  work  and  horrors 
(attending  Pritchard  in  his  cell)  !  I  went  for  a  week  to  Holland  with  my 
friend  Strahan,  preached  at  Rotterdam,  tourel  it  to  the  Hague,  Scheveling, 
on  to  Amsterdam,  Rotterdam,  home  via  Calais. 

"  The  worst  '  fairs'  I  have  seen  are  the  Glasgow  Pair  and  the  Kermiss  at 
Rotterdam — as  bad  for  vulvar  riotinsr  and  drunkenness  as  the  Poresters' 
Pete  at  the  Crystal  Palace. 

"  I  preached  at  's  Baptist  chapel.     How  tremendously  Maiirice  and 

his  school  have  told  on  the  Baptists  t  The  ice  is  thawing,  and  the  water  is 
freezing.  How  truth  tells  at  last !  If  it  does  not  revolutionize  it  modifies. 
It  is  wonderful  to  think  how  much  '  Orthodoxy '  owes  to  '  the  world  '  and 
to  '  Heterodoxy.'  What  a  practical  difference  does  it  make  having  Christ, 
not  any  logical  theological  system,  as  the  object  of  our  faith  and  love  !  I 
remember  Norwood  with  gratitude  !  " 

To  the  Rev.  W.  F.  Stevenson:  — 

"Fionary,  August  13th. 

i:  I  am  alive — alive  to  the  glory  of  the  hills  and  to  the  earth's  gravitation 
as  I  try  to  ascend  their  summits — alive  to  the  critical  state  of  the  political 
and  ecclesiastical  world ;  to  the  dangers  and  glories  of  the  Irish  revival;  and 
to  many  other  things  I  should  like  to  have  a  chat  about. 

21 


322  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  I  rejoice  to  hear  such  glad  tidings  about  Ireland  !  God  grant  wise  men 
to  guide  events  !  I  don't  go  '  to  see  the  Revival.'  I  fear  it  is  the  making 
it  a  spectacle  which  will  prove  its  greatest  danger.  By-and-by  I  may  run 
over  and  inquire  about  results.  In  the  meantime  I  am  taking  a  run 
through  dear  old  places,  and  among  dear  old  friends.  What  a  language 
those  hills  and  seas  speak  to  me,  who  have  been  coming  to  them  every  year 
almost  since  childhood !  Yet  how  many  hands  there  were  that  welcomed 
me  which  '  touch  '  no  more.  How  many  voices  which  were  earth's  music 
once,  that  sound  no  more  !  Here  life  would  be  death  to  me,  unless  I  be- 
lieved death  was  life. 

"  I  pieach  to-morrow,  having  Jowett  as  one  of  my  heavers." 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

SABBATH   CONTROVERSY. 

A  SERIES  of  public  demonstrations  had  taken  place  against  the 
running  of  Sunday  trains  and  other  forms  of  Sabbath  desecra- 
tion, and  the  Presbytery  of  Glasgow,  to  give  effect  to  these  expressions 
of  popular  feeling,  prepared  a  Pastoral  letter,  to  be  read  in  all  the 
churches  within  its  jurisdiction.  As  this  Letter  enforced  the  observ- 
ance of  the  Lord's  day  by  arguments  directly  opposed  to  the  teaching 
Dr.  Macleod  had  given  his  congregation  for  many  years,  it  was  impos- 
sible for  him  to  read  it  from  the  pulpit  without  expressing  his  dissent. 
He  therefore  felt  himself  bound  to  state  to  his  brethren  in  the  Presby- 
tery the  grounds  on  which  he  differed  from  their  judgment. 

He  believed  that  the  authority  of  the  Jewish  Sabbath  was  an 
insufficient,  unscriptural,  and  therefore  perilous  basis  on  which  to  rest 
the  observance  of  the  Lord's  day,  and  that  to  impose  regulations  as  to 
the  one  institution,  which  applied  only  to  the  other  must,  with  the 
changing  conditions  of  society  in  Scotland,  be  productive  of  greater 
evils  in  her  future  than  in  her  past  history.  In  proportion  to  the  strict 
enforcement  of  Sabbatarianism,  there  would,  in  his  opinion,  be  multi- 
plied those  practical  inconsistencies,  dishonesties,  and  Pharisaic 
sophistries  which  prove,  in  all  ages,  supremely  detrimental  to  morality 
and  religion.  It  was,  therefore,  with  the  desire  of  vindicating  the 
divine  sanctions  of  the  Lord's-day,  as  distinct  from  the  Sabbath,  that 
he  addressed  the  Presbytery,  and,  in  doing  so,  he  anticipated,  with  a 
deep  sense  of  responsibility,  the  peril  he  must  incur  and  the  pain  his 
views  were  certain  to  inflict  on  many  of  his  countrymen. 

This  speech,  like  all  his  other  speeches,  was  not  written  out,  but 
given  from  short,  and  to  any  other  eyes  than  his  own,  unintelligible 
notes.  In  substance,  however,  it  had  been  carefully  and  thoughtfully 
prepared :  the  arguments  and  illustrations  were  clearly  arranged,  but 
the  mutilated  form  in  which,  unfortunately,  it  first  appeared  in  the 
newspapers  created  an  impression  of  its  purport  which  was  calculated 
to  disturb  the  public  mind.  It  could  not  have  been  expected  that  an 
address  which,  though  rapidly  spoken,  occupied  between  three  and 
four  hours  in  delivery,  would  be  fully  or  accurately  reported  ;  but  it 
must  always  be  a  matter  of  regret  that  only  the  destructive  part  of  the 
argument,    which  came   first,  was   communicated   through  the  press, 


324  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

while  the  latter  part,  enforcing  the  divine  obligation  of  the  Lord's-day, 
was  omitted.  Had  the  public  been  better  informed  from  the  first  as 
to  the  true  character  of  his  sentiments,  there  would  have  been  less  of 
that  painful  misunderstanding  and  excitement  which,  once  raised,  is  so 
difficult  to  allay."* 

As  it  was,  the  outburst  of  popular  feeling  was  amazing.  His  views  were 
not  really  startling,  for  they  were  common  to  perhaps  a  majority  of  the 
best  theologians  of  the  Reformed  Churches.*!*     Yet,  if  the  speaker  had 

l'WifiintPf'fl    fTH'ri'st.'ICin'i'tw  lfssAlf    li  O   rTinVl    cnnvcnlTr   lvn-n   nvivliinnrl   n  rrvoufo-* 

j     -  i  -     •  n    ^">-v-x 

sensation.  He  became  not  only  an  object  of  suspicion  and  dislike  to 
the  unthinking  and  fanatical,  but  he  was  mourned  over  by  many  really 
good  men  as  one  who  had  become  an  enemy  to  the  truth.  His  table 
was  loaded  with  letters  remonstrating  with  him,  abusing  him,  denounc- 
ing, cursing  him.  Ministers  of  the  Gospel  passed  him  without  recogni- 
tion ;  one  of  these,  more  zealous  than  the  rest,  hissed  him  in  the 
street.  During  the  first  phase  of  this  agitation  he  felt  acutely  the 
loneliness  of  his  position  : — - 

"I  felt  at  first  so  utterly  cut  off  from  every  Christian  brother  that,  had 
a  chimney-sweep  given  me  his  sooty  hand,  and  smiled  on  me  with  his  black 
face,  I  would  have  welcomed  his  salute  and  blessed  him.  Men  apologised 
for  having  been  seen  in  my  company.  An  eminent  minister  of  the  Free 
Church  refused  to  preach  in  a  United  Presbyterian  pulpit  in  which  I  was 
to  preach  the  same  day.  Orators  harangued  against  me  in  City  Hall  and 
Merchants'  Hall.  The  empty  drums  rattled  and  the  brazen  trumpets  blew 
'  certain  sounds  '  in  every  village.  '  Leave  the  Church  ! '  '  Lihel  him  ! ' 
were  the  brotherly  advices  given.  Money  was  subscribed  to  build  a  Free 
Barony  Church ;  and  a  Free  Church  mission  house  was  opened  beside  mine 
('though  having  no  reference  to  me'  as  it  was  said!).  Caricatures  were 
displayed  in  every  shop  window." 

The  condition  of  religion  in  the  country  which  this  tide  of  bitterness 
revealed  burdened  him  with  sorrow.  In  one  sense  he  never  enjoyed 
greater  peace  of  spirit,  nor  was  he  once  tempted  to  waver  in  his  resolu- 
tion ,  but  he  felt  so  keenly  the  prevalence  of  intolerance  and  injustice 
under  the  cloak  of  zeal,  that  all  who  saw  him  during  these  three  weeks 
were  struck  by  his  chastened  and  sad  aspect.  There  were  some  conso- 
lations, however,  mingled  with  the  grief.  The  Presbytery  acted  with 
marked  courtesy,  and  conducted  the  discussions  in  a  spirit  of  the  most 
friendly  consideration.  "  They  were  very  kind,  and  did  not  utter  a 
harsh  word.  I  did  not  retract  a  syllable;  nor  was  I  asked  to  do  so." 
The.  Kirk-session  of  the  Barony  cheered  him  by  presenting  an  address 
expressive  of  their  unshaken  confidence,  and  his  congregation  to  a  man 
remained  loyal.  The  hope  that  good  would  result  from  the  controversy 
gradually  prevailed  over  other  feelings. 

*  That  this  was  the  ca^e  was  evident  from  the  effect  produced  when  he  ifterwards 
published  tin-  substance  of  the  spo^ 

+  For  a  Catena  oi  authorities  011  this  subject,  see  "The  Literature  of  the  Sabbath 
Que  ftion,"  by  Robert  Cox,  FS.A. 


SABBATH  CONTROVERSY,  325 

"  The  smaller  question,"  lie  writes,  "  is  fast  merging  into  the  higher  one, 
of  whether  we  are  to  gain  a  larger  measure  of  ministerial  liberty  in  inter- 
preting those  points  in  our  Confession  which  do  not  touch  the  essentials  of 
"the  Christian  faith.  If  the  Assembly  passes  without  my  being  libelled,  I 
shall  have  gained  for  the  Established  Church,  and  at  the  risk  of  my  ecclesi- 
astical life,  freedom  in  alliance  with  law,  and  for  this  I  shall  thank  God. 
But  should  they  drive  me  out,  that  day  will  see  national  evangelical  liberty 
driven  out  for  many  a  day  from  the  dear  old  Church." 

An  act  of  tolerance  on  tlie .  part  of  the  Church  in  his  case  would 
afford  a  practical  solution  to  some  of  the  difficulties  connected  with 
subscription ;  it  would  indicate  the  light  in  which  she  wished  her 
standards  to  be  regarded.  "  The  Confession,  when  read  like  the  Bible 
by  the  light  of  the  Spirit,  will  then  not  be  an  obscuration  but  a  trans- 
parency through  which  eternal  truth  is  seen."  Some  measure  of  liberty 
in  this  direction,  among  other  benefits,  was,  he  believed,  gained  for  the 
Church  by  the  stand  he  now  took. 

While  recording  the  sadder  aspects  of  this  trying  period,  it  is  well 
to  remember  that  the  suddenness  of  the  excitement  raised  against  him 
was  not  more  remarkable  than  the  rapidity  with  which  it  disappeared. 
If  it  is  painful  to  recall  misunderstandings  and  alienations,  it  is 
refreshing  to  bear  in  mind  how  soon  all  seemed  forgotten  in  the  con- 
hdenee  with  which  his  own  Church  honoured  him,  and  which  was 
also  accorded  by  the  other  Churches  of  the  land. 

To  his  Sister  Jane  :— 

"November  IQth,  1865. 

"  God,  I  solemnly  believe,  has  given  me  a  great  work  to  do,  and  I  have 
accepted  it,  keenly  alive — if  possible,  too  keenly  alive — to  my  responsi- 
bility— to  the  privilege  I  enjoy  in  the  discharge  of  a  great  duty,  and  to  the 
sorrows  and  sufferings  which  it  involves,  perhaps  for  life.  I  see  the  truth 
like  light,  but  that  same  light  reveals  the  rough  path  that  is  before  me.  I 
don't  ask  you  to  pass  any  opinion  on  what  I  have  said  till  you  see  my  speech 
tu  full  when  published.  I  don't  expect  you  even  then  to  agree  with  it  at 
once. 

"  Oh  dear,  pray  that  I  may  be  kept  in  peace  and  with  a  single  eye  and 
brave  heart  ! " 

Letter  to  Rev.  George  Gardiner,  Annan  : — 

"Glasgow,  November  I'JtJt,  1865. 

"  I  return  you  my  hearty  thanks  for  your  note  just  received,  and  I  attach 
the  mora  value  to  your  Christian  sympathy  from  the  fact  that  it  is  the  lirst 
of  the  kind  which  I  have  received. 

"  I  have  not  entered  on  this  war — only  beginning — without  much  thought, 
earnest  prayer,  and  a  very  solemn  sense  of  my  responsibility,  whether  I 
speak  or  keep  silence.  The  more  I  'mused'  on  the  state  of  religion  and 
parties  in  Scotland,  the  more  has  the  'fire  burned'  in  my  very  bones,  until 
I  could  not,  dared  not  but  utter  what,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  God  has  given 
me  to  utter.     But  I  feel  in  my  inmost  heart  the  burden  which  I  must  carry 


326  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

for  many  a  day,  probably  for  life.  I  could  escape  this  kind  of  burden  by 
silence  or  by  flight,  and  the  flesh  has  often  cried  out  in  this  and  in  other 
conflicts  which  in  Providence  1  have  been  called  to  fight,  '  Oh,  that  I  had 
the  wings  of  a  dove,'  to  fly  to  some  hut  in  the  wilderness,  in  some  lonely 
glen,  that  I  might  be  at  rest.  But  then  would  come  other  burdens  which  I 
could  not  carry,  which  would  crush  me— the  burden  of  a  bad  conscience,  of 
a  selfish,  cowardly  spirit,  of  a  false  heart  to  man,  and  therefore  to  God. 
With  truth  I  can  dare  to  meet  bad  men  and  devils,  and  what  is  worse,  good, 
dear  brethren  sincerely  believing  I  am  wrong,  and  grieving  for  me — which 
is  to  me  a  seething  in  my  mother's  milk  ;  but  with  conscious  untruth  in  any 
shape  or  form,  I  could  not  meet  myself  without  fear  and  shame,  far  less  my 
God.  Yet  with  all  this,  do  not  think  me  suffering  aught  but  noble  pains, 
such  as  I  welcome,  like  the  cross,  as  God's  great  gift.  I  enjoy  perfect  peace. 
I  have  blessed  freedom  and  peace  in  opening  my  whole  heart  and  ways  to 
Christ,  for  He  understands  our  thoughts,  will  deliver  us  from  evil,  and  lead 
us  and  all  who  seek  Him  into  truth  in  the  end. 

"  St.  Paul  in  his  Epistles  and  spirit  is  more  than  ever  clear  and  dear  to 
me.  As  soldiers  cried  once,  '  Oh,  for  one  day  of  Dundee  !'  so  do  I  feel  dis- 
posed to  cry,  '  Oh,  for  one  day  of  Paul !'  How  he  would  puzzle  and  astonish 
and  possibly  pain  our  Churches,  ay,  us  all,  for  he  is  far  in  advance  of  us  all 
yet !  But  as  Max  Piccolomini,  when  wishing  for  an  angel  to  show  him  the 
true  and  good,  said,  why  should  he  wish  this  when  he  had  his  noble  Thekla 
with  him  to  speak  what  he  felt ;  so  much  more  surely  you  and  I  and  all 
who  seek  the  truth  may  have  peace,  with  the  loving,  patient,  and  wise  Spirit 
and  Guide,  who  will  search  us  and  lead  us  into  all  truth  ! 

"  Some  think  I  am  leading  a  forlorn  hope.  Be  it  so.  Then  men  will 
enter  the  citadel  over  my  dead  body,  and  perhaps  bury  me  with  funeral 
honours  when  I  am  enjoying  rest  elsewhere. 

"As  to  consequences,  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  them.  I  have  faith  in 
Christ  as  the  Head  of  the  Church  and  of  the  world.  It  is  enough  that  I 
have  to  do  with  right  and  wrong.  To  know  that — to  observe  that — to  mea- 
sure the  real  angle,  and  let  the  two  sides  be  prolonged,  if  so  be,  ad  infinitum. 
that  alone  absorbs  all  my  thoughts,  demands  all  my  strength,  calls  forth  all 
my  prayers,  demands  all  my  faith.  If  I  am  wrong,  may  God  in  his  infinite 
mercy  destroy  all  my  works,  saving  my  soul  that  trusts  Him,  even  as  it 
were  by  fire  ! 

"  The  battle  is  but  beginning.  It  will  pass  over  to  the  more  difficult  and 
more  trying  one  of  the  relation  of  Confessions  to  the  Church,  its  members 
and  ministers.  Who  will  abide  this  sifting1?  I  think  I  have  light  on  this 
too,  and  may  be  helpful  to  many  a  perplexed  mind  when  the  battle  comes. 
If  I  am  to  be  made  the  occasion  of  its  being  fought,  amen  !  It  is  God's  will. 
But  sufficient  for  the  day  is  both  its  evil  and  God's  grace. 

"  I  am  going  to  print  my  speech  in  full.  I  would  have  spoken  four  hours 
had  time  been  given.  Much  was  unsaid  and  much  said  of  vast  importance 
which  was  not  reported. 

"  Thank  God,  the  debate  was  conducted  in  the  most  fair  and  kind  spirit. 
My  whole  feeling  towards  all  who  differ  is  an  earnest  desire  that  they  may 
see  the  truth — Churches  above  all ;  for  what  can  1  do  for  those  who  neither 
love  Christ  nor  would  have  a  holy,  blessed  Lord's  Day. 

"  Pray  for  me ; — yes,  do  in  faith — that   I  may  be  kept  calm,   peaceful, 


SA 1U).  t  TH  CONTRO  VERS  I '.  327 

simple,  sincere;  and  that  in  mercy  to  myself  ami  others  1  may  be  kept,  if 
need  be.  by  sickness  even,  from  injuring  Christ's  cause,  and  be  led  into  all 
truth,  that  men  may  glorify  Christ  in  me,  but  not  glorify  me,  which  would 
be  a  poor  idolatry. 

"I  remain,  your  brother  in  the  best  of  bonds." 

A    BATTLE-CBY    TO    MY    FRIEND    AND    FELLOW-SOLDIER    PRINCIPAL   TULLOCII.* 

Brother  !  up  to  the  breach 
For  Christ's  freedom  and  truth  ! 
Let  us  act  as  we  teach, 
VVith  the  wisdom  of  age  and  the  vigour  of  youth. 
Heed  not  their  cannon-balls, 
Ask  not  who  stands  or  falls. 

Grasp  the  sword 

Of  the  Lord, 

And  Forward  ! 

Brother  !  strong  in  the  faith 
That  '•  the  right  will  come  right, 
Never  tremble  at  death, 
Never  think  of  thvself  'mid  the  roar  of  the  fiidifc, 
Hark  to  the  battle-cry, 
Sounding  from  yonder  sky  ! 

Grasp  the  sword 

Of  the  Lord, 

And  Forward  ! 

Brother  !  sing  a  loud  Psalm, 
Our  hope's  not  forlorn  ! 
After  storm  comes  the  calm, 
After  darkness  and  twilight  breaks  forth  the  new  morn. 
Let  the  mad  foe  get  madder, 
Never  quail !  up  the  ladder  ! 

Grasp  the  sword 

Of  the  Lord, 

And  Forward  ! 

Brother  !  up  to  the  breach, 
For  Christ's  freedom  and  truth, 
If  we  live  we  shall  teach, 
Wich  the  strong  faith  of  age  and  the  bright  hope  o^  youth. 
If  we  perish,  then  o'er  us 
"Will  ring  the  loud  chorus, 

Grasp  the  sword 

Of  the  Lord, 

And  Follow ! 

*  Principal  Tulloch  had  just  delivered  a  stirring  address  on  the  question  of  Creeds. 


o23  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

To  the  late  Dr.  Robert  Lee  : — 

"  This  is  a  terrible  hurricane,  but  I  have  a  stout  heart,  a  good  ship,  light 
to  steer  by,  and,  thank  God  !  a  conscience  kept  in  perfect  peace. 

"  If  ever  there  was  a  time  in  our  history  when  we  should  be  wise,  pru 
dent,  brotherly,  and  brave— it  is  now." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Last  Sunday  qf'Q5. — I  will  not  anticipate  the  future,  it  is  amply  suffi- 
cient to  know  our  dear  God  and  Father  is  with  us  all,  and  our  own  brother 
Jesus  Christ.  With  heart,  soul,  and  strength,  I  give  glory  for  all  the  past, 
and  commit  all  to  the  blessed  Trinity  for  the  future  without  any  fear,  not  a 
shadow,  but  in  perfect  peace,  and  with  lut  one  prayer  from  the  depth  of 
my  heart  that  we  all  may  know  God's  will — that  we  all  may  be  enabled  to 
cling  to  a  living,  personal  Saviour ;  that  is  to  live  truly  to  God  and  man, 
and  so  to  live  peacefully,  joyously,  and,  of  course,  obediently,  as  love  is  a 
law  to  itself. 

"  I  cannot  in  this  rough  and  rapid  way  attempt  to  describe  the  origin  and 
history  of  the  '  Sabbath  question,'  which  is  becoming  in  God's  providence  a 
national  one.  It  hooks  on  to  so  many  topics,  it  is  so  connected  with  the 
past  history  and  present  state  of  theological  opinion  in  Scotland,  that  it 
would  demand  a  volume. 

"  This  I  wish  to  record,  that  never  in  my  whole  life  have  I  experienced 
so  much  real,  deep  sorrow,  never  so  tasted  the  bitter  cup  of  the  enmity, 
suspicion,  injustice,  and  hate  of  the  ministers  and  members  of  the  Christian 
Church.  Oh  !  it  was  awful ;  it  gave  me  such  an  insight  into  the  sufferings 
of  Jesus  from  man's  hate  and  suspicion  (even  though  conscientiously  enter- 
tained), such  as  I  never  before  conceived  of,  and  made  me  understand  St. 
Paul  and  the  Judaizers.  Eut  yet  never  in  my  life  did  I  experience  such 
deep  peace,  such  real,  overwhelming  joy.  I  record  this,  for  it  is  true.  I  was 
kept  not  only  from  hard,  bitter  words,  as  my  speech  and  pamphlet  testify, 
but  from  bitter  feelings  or  wishes,  and  with  most  loving  desires  for  their 
good.  I  am  naturally  hot,  ardent,  vehement,  satirical :  but  all  this  passed 
away,  may  it  keep  away  !     This  was  God's  doing. 

"  In  the  meantime  I  close  this  volume  of  my  secret  life  with  praise  to  God, 
and  unutterable  thanksgiving.  If  another  like  it  is  ended  near  the  end  of 
my  life,  I  know  I  shall  express  the  same  sentiments  with  a  deeper  sense  of 
their  truth. 

"  I  have  around  me  to-night  all  my  family,  and  this  after  fifty  years  ! 
Amen  and  Amen." 

To  his  Sister  Jane  :— 

"  February  9th,  18G6. 

"Injustice,  intolerance,  misrepresentation,  sneakiness,  make  me  half-mad; 
but  the  more  need  of  silence,  patience,  prayer,  and  the  reaching  upwards 
into  that  deep  personal  fellowship  with  the  Son,  out  of  which  alone  can 
come  to  me  a  share  of  His  brotherly  love  to  all.  Oh,  it  is  a  heaven  of  peace 
and  splendour,  a  pure  refined  atmosphere,  which  seems  too  far  off  for  me  to 
reach  and  breathe  !  Yet  there  is  something  ennobling  in  the  attempt,  and 
in  realising  a  living  Christ  with  all  power  by  His  Spirit  to  produce  it.  I 
have  fitful  gleams  of  it,  which  assure  me  it  exists,  and  for  me  too,  as  weU 


SA  KBA  Til   CONTRO I  r£RS  V.  329 

as  for  others.  But  there  is  a  lire  in  my  bones  which  won't,  I  fear,  go  out 
except  under  the  pressure  of  Mother  Earth.  Then  thank  God,  it  will  and 
1  shall  know  even  as  I  am  known." 

From  hia  Journal  : — 

"I  was  asked  by  the  Queen  to  visit  her  at  Osborne  during  the  holidays. 
I  went  there  on  Monday,  2nd  January. 

"The  Queen,  with  most  condescending  kindness,  commanded  me  to  plant 
a  tree  in  memory  of  my  visit. 

"  I  left  after  dinner,  late  on  Thursday  night,  by  the  yacht  for  Portsmouth. 
The  old  coxswain  was  a  member  of  the  Gaelic  Church  in  Campbeltown  in 
my  father's  time. 

"The  more  I  calmly  revise  these  past  weeks  the  more  I  believe  that  I 
have  done  what  was  right.  I  do  not  say  that  my  brethren  who  have 
opposed  me  have  done  wrong.  We  may,  I  hope,  be  both,  according  to  our 
light,  building  each  a  portion  of  the  wall  of  Jerusalem,  though  on  opposite 
sides. 

"  But  the  awful  conviction  is  deeply  pressing  itself  upon  me,  that  the 
gospel  is  not  preached  generally  in  Scotland,  that  so  called  'Evangelicalism' 
is  Judaism  ;  that  the  name  of  God,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit  which  is  Love, 
is  not  revealed,  but  concealed ;  that  it  is  not  a  gospel  of  glad-tidings,  but  of 
lamentation  and  woe  ;  that  it  is  not  a  Gospel  to  good-will  to  man,  but  to  a 
favoured  few  who  '  sit  under '  this  or  that  man. 

"Thank  God  I  am  free,  never  more  shall  I  be  trammelled  by  what 
partisan  Christians  think.  One  Master,  Christ  and  His  Word,  shall  alone 
guide  me,  and  speak  I  will  when  duty  calls,  come  what  may.  I  will  return 
their  adverse  feeling  to  me,  by  seeking  to  set  them  free.  If  the  Church  of 
Scotland  but  knew  the  day  of  her  visitation  she  would  rejoice  in  what  has 
happened." 

To  Dr.  Chabtekis  : — 

"  I  write  to  you  as  a  friend,  and  most  of  all  as  being  able  to  see  farther 
and  more  independently  than  some  of  our  so-called  leaders. 

" A  conference  !     If  we  are  to  have  conferences,  surely  there 

could  very  easily  be  found  subjects  of  discussion  of  more  consequence  to  the 
Church  and  to  Glasgow  than  this.  But  it  has  always  been  thus  with  hyper- 
orthodox  clergy,  straining  at  gnats  and  swallowing  camels. 

"  Conference !  and  all  because  I  don't  find  the  whole  moral  law  in  the 
ten  commandments,  or  because  I  think  the  Decalogue  a  covenant  with  Israel, 
and  as  such  not  binding  on  us,  and  base  the  Lord's-day  on  Christ  and  nob 
on  Moses,  and  find  His  teaching  a  sufficient  rule  of  life  without  the  Mosaic 
covenant !  Conference  !  If  it  were  not  my  resolution  to  breed  no  disturb- 
ance or  carry  on  the  agitation,  I  am  ready  to  fight  the  whole  army  of  them 
on  every  point !  " 


To  the  Same  :— 


''March  20th,  1866. 


"  God  knows  how  truly  I  feel  with  and  for  my  brethren,  and  would  do 
everything  possible  to  relieve  them  from  the  difficulty  in  which  they  feel 
themselves  placed.  I  am  bound  even  to  help  them  to  do  their  duty,  though 
in  their  doing  so  I  may  myself  suffer.     I  wish  to  save  my  truth  and  honour 


oil!--. 


330  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  I  Lad  a  weary  but  good  time  in  the  South.  In  eight  days  I  preached 
six  sermons,  and  spoke  at  seven  meetings.  Each  one  hour  and  a  half  at 
least.     There  is  some  life  in  the  old  dog  yet !" 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  I  am  almost  afraid  to  record  my  impressions  of  what  has  been  to  me 
the  great  event  of  this  winter,  and  perhaps  of  my  life,  the  discussion  of  the 
'  Sabbath  question.'  Though  its  very  memory  will  pass  away  like  one  of 
ton  thousand  things  which  have  more  or  less,  for  good  or  evil,  affected  our 
Church  or  even  national  history,  yet  surely  some  importance  must,  without 
exaggeration,  be  attached  to  a  question  I  was  the  occasion  of  raising,  which 
has  been  discussed  in  every  newspaper  in  Scotland,  and  in,  I  presume  to 
say.  every  pulpit,  which  has  led  to  articles  in  almost  every  magazine  in  the 
habit  of  discussing  such  points — in  the  Contemporary,  Fortnightly,  Saturday, 
Spectator,  &c,  &c,  &c,  and  has  induced  Dr.  Hessey  to  bring  out  a  new 
edition  of  his  lectures.*  The  furor  has  passed  into  the  colonies,  and  divided 
opinion  there  as  well  as  here.  Behold  what  a  great  matter  a  little  spark 
kindleth  !  The  great  matter  (as  it  has  since  been  proved)  was  the  combus- 
tible state  of  the  public  mind  from  ultra  and  almost  intolerable  Sabbata- 
rianism. My  speech,  delivered  with  no  other  thought  than  the  discharge  of 
to  me  a  clear  and  necessary  duty,  was  the  little  spark.  The  excitement  it 
has  created  has  been  unparalleled  since  '43. 

"  One  would  have  to  read  the  newspapers  I  have  collected  to  comprehend 
the  fury  of  the  attack.  Men  from  every  pulpit  and  through  the  daily  press 
seem  to  gnash  their  teeth  on  me. 

"  And  all  for  what  1  My  speech  is  my  reply.  The  charges  which  were 
chiefly  made  against  me  were — 1    That  I  gave  up  the  moral  law  (!)  when  I 

*  Among  the  many  curious  letters  he  received  during  this  time,  there  is  one  containing 
the  following  description  of  a  "  holy  cat."  Dr.  Macleod  sent  for  the  writer,  and  learned 
from  him  the  remarkable  history  of  himself  arid  his  cats. 

"  Dear  Slr, 

"  I  am  going  to  tell  you  a  small  skitch  about  two  cats  I  had  in  my  time  one  of 
them  was  a  thief  and  a  Sabath  Breaker  the  other  was  Honest  and  kept  the  Sabath  in 
1845  i  thiuk  I  left  Glasgow  for  Skye  where  I  belong  to  my  father  had  a  small  (arm  I 
was  nine  years  there  every  one  kent  about  the  Botatoe  failure  there  in  one  of  these  years 
my  father  parted  this  lit"  in  23  May  My  mother  on  the  12th  Agust  my  wife  1st  Jany  same 
year  leaving  me  with  five  young  children  the  oldest  between  ten  and  eleven  years  old  the 
youngest  a  smart  Boy  this  day  never  saw  a  mother  yet  I  sent  the  child  to  nurs  at  15s  a 
month  I  kept  with  them  for  two  years  fighting  between  death  and  life  at  last  on  the 
brink  of  starving  I  told  them  at  last  that  I  would  have  to  leave  them  that  if  possible  I 
would  send  som  suport  from  Glasge  I  got  eight  shillings  for  som  straw  I  had  I  left  them 
one  shilly  and  7  to  pay  the  boat  they  waited  for  the  Steamboat  on  Saterday  until  late 
but  no  relief  on  Saterday  night  they  went  home  and  slept  till  late  on  Sunday  when  they 
got  up  they  were  without  a  morsel  of  meat  a  sure  of  rain  came  on  the  old  las  went  out  and 
told  her  Bister  to  go  with  her  and  gather  some  small  botatoes  that  avjs  coming  in  sight 
where  the  botatoes  was  planted  they  took  home  a  small  Pot  full  and  put  them  on  the  tire 
I  had  two  splendid  cats  mother  ami  daughter  as  whit  as  snow  except  a  few  black  spots 
on  the  tail  and  on  the  head  they  were  both  Standing  to  the  fire  one  of  the  children  said 
if  we  had  some  kitchen  now  with  that  small  Pot  of  botatoes  we  would  be  all  right  but 
in  a  short  time  one  of  the  cats  came  in  with  a  fish  laid  that  beside  the  fire  before  lie 
halted  he  tok  in  a  iish  to  each  of  them  but  when  he  was  at  the  dor  with  the  fifth  iish  the 
holy  eat,  that  stood  at  the  fire  all  the  time  would  have  the.  last  to  himself  1  think  it 
bhoukl  be  given  to  the  publick  but  you  are  the  best  Judge." 


SA  I>r>.  \  Til    CON  TRO I  rERS ) '.  33  L 

(^erely  denied  that  the  moral  law  and  the  ten  commandments  were  identical, 
and  assorted  that  the  moral  law  as  such  was  eternal.  2.  That  /  did  away 
with  the  Sabbath  when  I  denied  that  the  Lord's  day  rested  as  its  divine 

ground  on  the  perpetual  obligation  of  the  fourth  commandment,  but  endea- 
voured to  prove  its  superior  glory  and  fitness  and  blessedness  on  other 
grounds.  3.  That  I  gave  up  the  Decalogue  as  a  rule  of  life,  and  therefore 
had  no  law  to  guide  life,  when  I  denied  that  we  required  to  go  to  Moses  for 
a  rule,  having  Jesus  Christ,  and  that  the  gospel  was  not  a  mere  rule,  but  a 
principle,  even  life  itself  through  faith  in  Christ,  and  in  the  possession  of 
the  Spirit  of  life  which  necessitates  obedience  to  moral  law  in  all  its  full- 
ness as  recorded  in  Christ's  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  in  all  the  Epistles,  and, 
above  all,  as  revealed  and  embodied  in  His  own  holy  life. 

"  The  controversy  soon  passed  into  the  greater  question  regarding  the  re- 
lationship of  the  law  of  Moses  and  law  as  a  rule  of  life — 'Thou  shalt'  and 
'  shalt  not,'  to  the  gospel  '  Believe  and  live.'  And  I  am  persuaded  that  the 
Sabbath  controversy  will  more  and  more  reveal  the  intense  Judaism  preva- 
lent  in  Scotland,  and  by  the  Spirit's  teaching  lead  more  to  the  seeing  of 
Christ  as  the  Prophet  as  well  as  the  Priest  and  the  King — '  Father,  glorify 
Thy  Son  that  Thy  Son  may  glorify  Thee  !' 

"  Another  question  of  immense  importance,  which  has  grown  and  is 
growing  out  of  this  discussion,  is  ministerial  liberty  with  reference  to  non- 
essential questions,  or  such  as  do  not  touch  the  great  catholic  doctrines  or 
the  vitals  of  Christianity. 

"  This  question  was  fairly  put  before  the  last  meeting  of  Presbytery. 

"Prior  to  that  meeting  the  clerical  mind  had  been  intensely  inflamed  in 
certain  quarters  and  by  certain  parties.  The  question  was  beginning  to  tell 
on  the  union  between  the  Free  Kirk  and  the  United  Presbyterian.  The 
more  intelligent  of  the  laity  were  more  and  more  becoming  moderate  in 
their  views  and  sympathizing  with  me.  I  had  but  dared  to  express  in  a 
coherent,  bold  form  what  they  had  long  practically  felt.  They  had  long 
felt  uneasy  about  the  universal  declamations  from  platform  and  pulpit  about 
'  Sabbath  desecration,'  as  it  is  called  by  those  who  themselves  employ  cabs 
or  milk  carts,  &c,  on  Sabbath.  No  voice  was  lifted  up  in  defence  of  fair 
Christian  liberty  except  by  so-called  secular  papers,  i.e.,  non-sectarian  or 
non-Church  papers.  What  could  any  layman  do  I  The  clergy  had  it  all 
their  own  way,  and  woe  be  to  the  man  who  among  themselves  would  dare 
to  '  peep.'  If  he  had  no  influence,  he  would  soon  be  crushed  by  the  evan- 
gelical battering  rams.  If  he  had  any  influence  to  make  himself  heard, 
that  influence  might  forever  be  destroyed.  What  was  to  be  done  when  1 
spoke  1  Could  this  be  permitted'?  If  either  of  the  other  Churches  said 
Yes,  the  other  would  say  No,  and  so  the  union  would  end.  If  both  were 
silent,  the  ignorant  and  conscientious,  drilled  by  their  clei-gy  from  infancy 
in  Sabbatarianism,  would  force  them  to  speak  out.  If  both  would  say  No, 
then  they  would  check  incipient  liberty  among  the  younger  clergy  in  both 
Churches,  awe  the  laity,  and  force  the  Establishment  to  join  them.  The 
anion  could  then  take  place.  The  laity  would  not  leave  the  Unionists,  as 
the  Establishment  was  as  narrow.  A  stern  clergy  -power  would  reign  ;  the 
coalition  would  soon  destroy  the  Establishment  from  old  grudge  and  hate, 
while  it  would  have  no  prestige  of  being  a  National  Church,  and  as  such 
inclusive  to  the  utmost  stretch  of  her  constitution,  and  the  rej)resenLative 
of  true  freedom  without  licentiousness. 


332  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"The  politics  of  the  one  party  were  to  represent  the  past  only,  to  lie  at 
anchor  as  if  the  end  of  the  voyage  in  history  was  reached,  to  accept  the 
finding  of  the  Westminster  Assembly  as  perfect  and  incapable  of  improve- 
ment. The  politics  of  the  Church,  as  involved  in  this  struggle,  are,  sail 
on,  not  back,  to  hold  by  the  past,  but  to  grow  out  of  it,  and  as  a  living  or- 
ganic whole  to  develop  all  that  is  good  in  it  into  a  stronger,  expansive,  and 
more  fruitful  tree.  Whether  we  could  or  can  do  this  with  a  Confession 
which  is  part  of  the  constitution  of  the  country,  was  and  is  the  question. 

"There  is  a  set  of  ecclesiastics  who  will  not  read  a  book,  a  newspaper,  01 
argue  with  any  one  who  does  not  reflect  their  own  sentiments.  They  look 
into  the  glass  and  say,  •  I  see  every  time  I  look  there  one  who  always  agrees 
with  me.'  That  is  their  whole  world,  and  of  the  rest  they  are  profoundly 
ignorant. 

"  The  members  of  Presbytery  were  in  a  very  painful  and  difficult  posi- 
tion. My  departure  from  the  letter  of  the  Confession  was  not  only  evi- 
dent, but  was  so  in  a  degree  and  to  an  extent  which  was  almost  unprece- 
dented, and  could  not  be  ovei  looked  without  making  the  Presbytery  sus- 
pected of  indifference  or  moral  cowardice.  On  the  other  hand,  they  had  no 
personal  ill-will  to  me,  while  many  had  the  very  kindest  feelings  to  me. 

called  for  me  twice,  and  the  upshot  of  our  conversation  was,  that  I 

declared  what  I  would  not  and  what  I  would  do.  I  would  not  recant  or 
withdraw  one  word  I  had  uttered,  simply  because  I  did  not  as  yet  see  that 
I  had  uttered  anything  wiong ,  that  if  I  left  the  Church  I  would  do  so  with 
self-respect,  and  that  I  would  not  propose  to  the  Presbytery  to  do  anything. 
They  must  act  according  to  their  conscience;  so  must  I;  each  realizing 
our  responsibility  to  God,  and  leaving  all  results  to  him.  But,  short  of  the 
sacrifice  of  my  honour  and  sense  of  truth,  I  would  act  with  all  courtesy, 
all  kindness,  and  help  to  carry  their  burden  of  responsibility,  as  I  would 
wish  them  to  carry  mine.  Accordingly  I  did  not  vote  on  what  was  an 
important  question,  the  committee,  which  if  carried  would  have  brought 
the  whole  matter  up  to  the  Assembly  in  a  formal  manner. 

"  And  so  in  the  meeting  of  Presbytery  which  afterwards  took  place,  I 
admitted  that  I  had  taught  against  the  Confession  of  Faith,  that  no  doubt 
that  was  the  fact,  but  asserted  that  either  all  had  done  the  same  or  did  not 
in  every  iota  believe  the  Confession ,  therefore  the  question  turned  on 
whether  I  had  so  differed  from  the  Confession  as  to  necessitate  deposition  1 
I  thus  at  the  risk  of  my  ecclesiastical  life  established  the  principle  that  all 
differences  from  the  Confession,  apart  from  the  nature  of  the  difference,  did 
not  involve  deposition.  Henceforth  we  shall  keep  our  Confession  with 
power  to  depose  on  any  point  of  difference,  yet  judicially  determining  what 
point  or  what  degree  of  difference.     A  great  gain  ! 

"  In  so  far  as  the  question  of  ministerial  liberty  was  concerned,  thank 
God,  I  have  gained  the  day,  and  it  is  a  blight  day  for  Scotland,  which  will 
not  be  followed  by  night,  but  shine  on  unto  the  perfect  day,  which  to  me 
would  be  the  subjection  of  every  soul  to  the  teaching  of  Jesus  Christ,  the; 
one  prophet  of  the  Church,  and  to  Moses  and  His  prophets  as  His  servants, 
whose  teaching  is  to  be  interpreted  1  y  that  of  the  Master's. 

"Their  admonition  was  not  pronounced  but  recorded,  and  T  said  that  it 
was  interesting  as  being  probably  the  las:  which  should  be  addressed  to  any 
minister  of  the  Church  for  teaching  as  I  did.,  and  that  I  would  show  it  son"* 


SA  BBA  Til  CONTRO I  rEBS  V.  33  I 

day  {o  my  son  as  an  ecclesiastical  fossil.  They  only  smiled  and  said  lie 
would  never  discover  it.  All  was  good  humour,  and  why  they  did  not  SCO 
or  feel  the  victory  I  had  gained  J.  cannot  tell." 

To  A.  Straiian,  Esq. : — 

"I  think  the  Assembly  won't  depose  — hut  having  risked  all  for  freedom 
and  truth,  I  am  not  surprised  at  having  lost  an  influence  in  this  country 
which  will  never  be  regained  by  me  in  this  world,  though  the  next  genera- 
tion will  reap  freedom  from  it." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

'■'June,  18G6. — The  Assembly  is  over,  and  not  one  personal  allusion  was 
made  regarding  me,  far  less  any  unkind  word.  Most  wonderful  !  Most  unac- 
countable !  It  is  a  state  of  things  which  I  cannot  'take  in.'  I  cannot  account 
for  it.  I  believe  kind  personal  feeling  had  something  to  do  with  it,  so  some 
truthful  men  told  me.  But  it  has  also  been  said  that  convictions  were  too 
general  and  strong  on  my  side,  as  a  whole,  to  make  any  discussion  safe,  and 
such  as  would  not  be,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  very  agreeable  as  revealing  the 
actual  state  of  the  Church.  Anyhow,  I  thank  and  praise  God  for  His 
great  mercy,  and  pray  that  I  may  be  enabled  to  use  this  liberty  humbly, 
lovingly,  and  sincerely  for  His  glory.  I  trust  that  I  shall  be  able  more  than 
ever  to  strengthen  men's  convictions  as  to  the  blessedness  of  the  Lord's-day, 
and  the  spiritual  good  of  keeping  it  holy  unto  the  Lord.  I  hope  also  to 
be  able  to  check  any  tendency  which  some  possibly  may  entertain  of  being 
able  to  preach  lax  doctrine  as  regards  catholic  truth  and  vital  Christianity. 
I  hope  that  my  freedom,  which  has  been  obtained  at  a  great  price,  may  ever 
be  used  to  bring  men  under  law  to  Christ,  and  never  directly  or  indirectly 
to  be  perverted  into  a  cloak  for  licentiousness,  or  for  conceited  puppies  to 
trifle  with  the  eternal  verities  of  religion,  or  the  proprieties  of  our  National 
Church. 

"  Oh,  my  Father  !  Guide  me,  give  me  a  single  eye,  a  pure  and  loving 
heart.  Deliver  me  from  the  temptation  of  party.  Help  me  to  be  ever  con- 
sistent with  the  truth,  and  ever  teach  me  by  Thine  infinite  power,  wisdom, 
and  love,  what  the  truth  is.  Let  Thy  Spirit  pierce  through  all  the  crust  of 
selfishness,  vanity,  ambition,  and  the  love  of  man's  approval,  and  enable  me, 
come  what  may,  to  keep  Thy  blessed  will  before  me,  and  to  follow  it  unto 
death. 

"  It  is  far  more  difficult  to  act  rightly  in  prosperity  than  in  adversity, 
when  victorious  than  when  defeated.  At  all  times  how  difficult  to  be  hum- 
ble, to  consider  others,  to  be  subject  one  to  another,  to  have  the  love  that 
vaunteth  not  itself! 

"  Almighty  God !  In  infinite  mercy,  keep  me  from  being  true  to  any 
Church  or  party,  yet  false  to  Thee,  or  to  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus. 

"  A  few  years  more,  should  these  be  given,  and  my  work  is  done.  Grant, 
oh  my  Father,  that  it  may  be  so  done  as  that  I  may  be  acknowledged  as  a 
faithful  servant.  Forgive,  forgive,  forgive!  through  the  blood  of  Jesus  shed 
for  the  remission  of  the  sins  of  the  world. " 

From  the  late  Rev.  F.  D.  Maurice  : — 

"I  have  been  writing  a  short  book,  'On  the  Commandments  as  Instru- 
ments for  Preserving  and  Restoring  National  Life  and  Freedom.' 


334  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  As  the  book  maintains  a  doctrine  which  is  adverse  to  that  in  your  speech 
on  the  Sabbath.  I  intended  to  dedicate  it  to  you  that  I  might  express  the 
high  respect  I  feel  for  you,  and  my  thorough  agreement  with  your  object, 
Avhile  I  deviate  so  widely  from  a  part  of  your  theory.  But  if  you  think  the 
dedication  would  in  any  way  be  injurious  to  you,  or  if  it  would  be  disagree- 
able to  you,  I  will  cancel  it  altogether,  or  I  will  omit  any  passages  in  it  that 
may  give  you  the  least  annoyance." 

From  Dean  Staki/fy  to  Dr.  Macleod:— 

"Deanery,  Westminster,  September  llth,  18G6. 
"  My  dear  Bishop, 

"(For  under  this  aspect  I  always  regard  you  when  I  cross  the 
Border).  I  much  lament  that  I  dare  not  accept  the  offer  to  lecture  at  Glas- 
gow. There  are  some  things  which  I  should  much  enjoy  saying  to  an 
assembly  of  Scots,  but  the  convenient  season  is  not  yet  come. 

"  In  coming  from  Berwick  to  Edinburgh,  we  had  with  us  in  the  railway 
carriage  a  man  from  Glasgow.  '  Do  you  know  Dr.  Norman  Macleod  V  '  Not 
personally,  because  I  am  a  Free  Churchman.  My  sister,  however,  sits  under 
him,  and  likes  him  very  much.  But  Norman  Macleod  has  had  a  fine  heck- 
ling about  the  DoxologyF  " 

To  the  Rev.  D.  Morrison: — 

"  Hydropathic  Establishment,  Cluny  Hill,  Forres, 

September,  1SG6. 

"  Here  lam  in  a  state  of  perpetual  thaw,  ceaseless  moisture,  always  under 
a  wet  blanket,  and  constantly  in  danger  of  kicking  the  bucket — 'water, 
water  everywhere.'  I  have  been  stewed  like  a  goose,  beat  on  like  a  drum, 
battered  like  a  pancake,  rubbed  like  corned  beef,  dried  like  a  Findon  had- 
dock, and  wrapped  up  like  a  mummy  in  wet  sheets  and  blankets.  My  belief 
is  that  I  am  in  a  lunatic  asylum — too  mad  to  be  quite  sure  about  it.  My 
wife  says  I  never  was  so  sane.  But  what  if  she  herself  is  insane]  That  is 
a  difficulty. 

"  I  am  composing  a  Hydropathic  Catechism  for  the  use  of  schools. 

"  What  was  the  primeval  state  of  the  globe  ?     Water. 

"What  was  the  first  blessing  bestowed  on  the  earth  %     Bain. 

"What  was  the  grand  means  of  purifying  the  earth?     The  Deluge. 

"  Mention  some  of  the  great  deliverances  by  water  ?  Moses  in  the  Nile; 
ditto,  Bed  Sea,  &c,  &c. 

"  This  is  laying  what  is  called  a  religious  foundation.  Then  comes  the 
scientific. 

"  What  is  the  best  music1?     Water-pipes. 

"  What  is  the  best  light  1     Dips. 

"  What  is  the  best  wife  ?     A  mermaid. 

"What  is  the  best  death1?     Water  in  the  chest,  or  drowning. 

"  Who  are  the  true  Church  1     Baptists. 

"  What  is  the  best  song  in  the  English  language  ?  '  A  wet  cheet  and 
a  flowing  sea.' 

"Who  are  the  true  aristocracy?     The  K.C.B.'s,  &c,  &c. 

"This  will  be  the  most  celebrated  book  published  in  the  rain  of  Queen 
"Victoria  !     I  will  dedicate  it  to  the  raining  family." 


SABBATH  CONTROVERSY.  335 

To 

"  I  am  much  interested  by  the  evolution  from  your  internal  consciousness 
of  the  lamb-like  character  of  your  disposition.  It  quite  agrees  with  my 
estimate  of  my  own  disposition.  I  have  invariably  testified  to  my  wife  that 
there  never  was  a  more  calm,  sweet,  obedient,  and  gentle  husband  than  my- 
self, so  long  as  she  never  contradicts  me,  opposes  me,  differs  from  me ;  but, 
if  she  does  so,  then  very  different  feelings  may  manifest  themselves.  If  so, 
who  is  to  blame  1  She  is,  of  course — who  else  1  Not  the  lamb,  but  the 
lion  that  worries  it.  '  Heaven  help  me  ! '  said  Niagara,  '  what  injustice  the 
world  J  :  ;  !  They  call  me  a  river  which  is  always  foaming  in  rapids, 
thundering  in  falls,  seething  in  foam  and  whirlpools  !  Is  that  my  fault  ? 
Fuff!  All  of  you  Yankees,  Prussians,  and  French,  I  am  of  a  most  sweet, 
calm,  and  pliable  disposition.  But  if  those  low  blackguard  rocks  will 
oppose  me,  interfere  with  me,  cross  my  path  with  their  confounded  strata, 
hem  me  in  on  every  side,  crush  me ;  what  can  I  do  but  foam,  and  spit,  and 
rage1?  Let  me,  leave  me  alone  !  and  you  will  see  how  calmly  I  shall  sleep 
and  reflect  in  my  bosom  the  glories  of  earth  and  sky  ! '  Oh,  my  darling 
Niagara,  forgive  my  injustice  !  Pity  my  ignorance  !  May  thy  sleep  be 
sweet  in  thine  Erie  garret  and  in  thy  Lake  Superior  in  '66  ! ' " 

To  Mrs.  MacLeod  : — 

"Balmoral,  15tft  October,  1866. 

"  The  Queen  is  pleased  to  command  me  to  remain  here  till  Tuesday. 

"  I  found  Mr.  Cardwell  had  been  in  the  Barony,  and.  to  the  great  amuse- 
ment of  the  Queen,  he  repeated  my  scold  about  the  singing.*  After  dinner, 
the  Queen  invited  me  to  her  room,  where  I  found  the  Princess  Helena  and 
Marchioness  of  Ely. 

"  The  Queen  sat  down  to  spin,  at  a  nice  Scotch  wheel,  while  I  read 
Robert  Burns  to  her;  'Tarn  o'  Shunter,'  and  'A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that/ 
her  favourite. 

"The  Prince  and  Princess  of  Hesse  sent  for  me  to  see  their  children. 
The  eldest,  Victoria,  whom  I  saw  at  Darmstadt,  is  a  most  sweet  child ;  the 
youngest,  Elizabeth,  a  round,  fat  ball  'of  loving  good-nature.  I  gave  her  a 
real  hobble,  such  as  I  give  Polly.  I  suppose  the  little  thing  never  got  any- 
thing like  it,  for  she  screamed  and  kicked  with  a  perfect  furore  of  delight, 
would  go  from  me  to  neither  father  or  mother  or  nurse,  to  their  great  merri- 
ment, but  buried  her  chubby  face  in  my  cheek,  until  I  gave  her  another 
right  good  hobble.     They  are  such  dear  children. 

"  The  Prince  of  Wales  sent  a  message  asking  me  to  go  and  see  him. 
#  *  #  *  #  * 

"  When  I  was  there  the  young  Prince  of  Wales  fell  on  the  wax-cloth, 
after  lunch,  with  such  a  thump  as  left  a  swollen  blue  mark  on  his  forehead. 
He  cried  for  a  minute,  and  then  laughed  most  bravely.  There  was  no  fuss 
whatever  made  about  him.  by  mother,  father,  or  any  one ;  yet  it  must  have 
been  very  sore,  and  I  would  have  been  nervous  about  it,  if  it  had  happened 
to  Polly.  He  is  a  dear,  sweet  child.  All  seem  to  be  very  happy.  We  had 
a  great  deal  of  pleasant  talk  in  the  garden.  Dear,  good  General  Grey  drove 
me  home." 

*  "  Scripture  commands  us  to  'sing' — not  grunt — but  if  you  are  so  constituted  phys- 
ically that  it  is  impossible  for  you  to  sing,  but  only  grunt — then  it  is  best  to  be  sileut." 


336  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

To  his  Mother  : — 


"  Aberoeldie. 


"  It  was  reported  to  me  the  other  day,  with  perfect  confidence,  that  the 
young  Prince  was  deformed  in  his  hands.  I  saw  and  kissed  the  child  to- 
day, and  a  more  healthy,  perfect,  or  more  delightful  child  I  never  saw. 
Tliink  of  these  lies  !  " 

To  Canon  Kingsley  : — 

"  Adelaide  Place,  April  10th,  1867. 

'■  When  I  wish  to  remember  a  friend  daily  I  don't  answer  his  letter  for 
days  when  it  demands  an  immediate  reply.  "What  a  presence  he  become.;, 
and  how  humbled  and  ashamed  one  feels  before  him,  especially  when  we 
have  no  excuse  for  our  silence  which  can  bear  his  scrutiny  !  By  this  sin- 
ful process,  '  how  often  hath  my  spirit  turned  to  thee  1 '  ever  since  I  received 
your  note  !  I  won't  tell  you  how  much  I  felt  on  reading  your  note.  I  shall 
have  it  to  my  boys  that  they  may,  when  I  am  gone,  learn  from  it  that  one 
so  great  and  good  gave  their  old  dad  so  hearty  and  firm  a  grasp  of  his  hand. 
God  bless  you  for  it  !  With  all  my  heart  I  return  it,  for  all  you  are  and 
'a'  Glencairn  has  been  to  me.'  I  send  my  'plan,'  as  a  Highland  laird 
termed  his  wife's  likeness,  to  your  lady,  proud  that  it  may  find  a  humble 
place  in  her  collection.  The  only  inscription  I  am  inclined  to  write  on  it 
would  be,  Eccles.  ii.  15,  last  clause." 

"Blackheath,  Friday  Morning,  \0th  May,  1867. 

"Had  such  a  congregation  yesterday!  Such  a  church!  I  was  very 
happy,  my  heart  was  in  it,  and  the  people  seemed  thankful.  They  gave 
audible  expression  more  than  once,  laughing  outright,  and  semi-applause  ! 
Newman  Hall,  Mullens,  Dale,  Rogers,  &c,  were  present,  and  many  mission- 
aries, all  so  affectionate.  It  was  a  happy  night,  and  I  thank  God  for  it ; 
and  so  will  you,  dearest." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  I  spent  last  fortnight  in  the  South.      Visited  Manchester  and  Leaming- 
ton.    A  happy  time.      Composed  in  train,   '  Whistle  the  Mavie.' 
"  Published  the   '  Curling  Song,'  last  month,  in  Blackwood. 
"  Lived  with  Dean  Stanley  from  the  16th  till  the  18th." 

The  story  of  the  "  Starling,"  on  which  lie  was  now  engaged  was 
suggested  by  a  note  which  he  received  the  day  after  his  speech  on  the 
Sabbath  question,  from  the  former  editor  of  the  Reformer's  Gazette  in 
Glasgow : — 

••  Suffer  me  to  give  you  the  following  story  which  I  heard  in  Perth  up- 
wards of  forty  years  ago.  A  very  rigid  clergyman  of  that  city  had  a  very 
decent  shoemaker  for  an  elder,  who  had  an  extreme  liking  for  birds  of  all 
kinds,  not  a  few  of  which  he  kept  in  cages,  and  they  cheered  him  in  his 
daily  work.  He  taught  one  of  them  in  particular  (a  starling)  to  whistle 
some  of  our  finest  old  Scottish  tunes.  It  happened  on  a  fine  Sabbath  morn- 
ing the  stalling  was  in  tine  leather,  and  as  the  minister  was  passing  by  lie 
heard  the  starling  singing  with  great  glee  in  his  cage  outside  his  door,  '  Ower 


SABBATH   CONTROVERSY.  337 

the  water  to  Charlie  !'  The  worthy  minister  was  so  shocked  at  this  on  the 
Sabbath  morning  that  on  Monday  he  insisted  the  shoemaker  would  either 
wring  the  bird's  neck  or  demit  the  office  of  elder.  This  was  a  cruel  alter- 
native, but  the  decent  shoemaker  clung  to  his  favourite  bird,  and  prospered. 
If  he  had  murdered  the  innocent,  would  the  Sabbath  have  been  sanctified  to 
him  % 

"  Yours  faithfully, 

"  Peter  Mackenzie." 

From  this  brief  narrative  the  tale  of  the  "  Starling  "  was  written — 
perhaps  the  ablest  of  his  attempts  in  fiction.  As  a  literary  production, 
it  is  remarkable  as  being  without  any  love-plot,  and  in  making  the 
interest  of  the  story  turn  completely  on  another  range  of  sympathies. 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  I  am  writing  the  '  Starling '  for  Good  Words,  to  illustrate  the  one-sided- 
ness  and  consequent  untruth  of  hard  logical  '  principle,'  when  in  conflict  with 
genuine  moral  feeling,  true  faith  versus  apparent  '  truth  '  of  reasoning." 

22 


CHAPTER     XIX, 

SOME   CHARACTERISTICS. 

IT  is  unfortunate  that  no  record  of  his  "  Table-talk  "  has  been  pre- 
served, for  every  one  who  knew  him  would  at  once  fix  on  his  con- 
versation as  the  sphere  in  which  he  alone  displayed  the  riches  of  his 
imagination,  wit,  humour,  and  sympathy. 

"  Much  as  one  enjoys,"  writes  Principal  Shairp,  "  many  things  that  come 
from  his  pen,  full  as  they  are  of  healthy  life  and  human  heartedness,  nothing 
he  has  written  is  any  measure  of  the  powers  that  were  in  him.  The  sermons 
he  preached,  with  the  language  warm  from  his  heart,  were  far  beyond  the 
best  he  published.  His  addresses  to  public  meetings  were  better  than  his 
sermons,  for  they  allowed  him  to  flavour  his  earnest  thoughts  with  that  over- 
flowing humour  which  would  have  been  out  of  place  in  the  pulpit.  Some- 
times when  he  met  a  congenial  party  at  dinner,  or  on  an  evening,  his  talk 
impressed  them  more  than  his  best  speeches,  so  rich  was  it,  so  varied  and 
versatile.  But  the  time  to  get  him  at  his  best  and  fullest  was  when  you 
sat  up  with  him  till  midnight,  all  alone  in  his  study,  with  none  to  hear  but 
one  familiar  friend  in  whose  sympathy  he  could  fully  rely — it  was  then  that 
his  whole  soul  came  out  in  all  its  breadth  and  rich  variety,  touching  every 
chord  of  human  feeling,  and  ranging  from  common  earth  to  highest  heaven. 
The  anecdote,  reflection,  argument,  bright  flashes  of  imagination,  drollest 
humour,  most  thrilling  pathos,  and  solemn  thoughts  wandering  through 
eternity,  all  blended  into  one  whole  of  conversation,  the  like  of  which  you 
never  before  listened  to.  In  a  moment  he  would  pass  from  some  comical 
illustration  of  human  character  to  the  most  serious  reality  of  sacred  truth, 
and  you  would  feel  no  discord.  In  any  other  hands  there  would  have  been 
a  jar,  but  not  in  his.  Those  who  knew  him  well  will  understand  what  I 
mean,  to  others  it  cannot  be  described.  At  such  times  I  used  to  think  that 
if  all  the  pleasantest,  ablest  conversations  I  had  ever  heard  at  Oxford  from 
one's  best  friends  had  been  rolled  into  one,  it  would  not  have  made  up  such 
a  profusion  of  soul  as  came  from  Norman  then.  No  one,  however  well  he 
might  otherwise  know  him,  could  estimate  his  full  breadth  and  depth  of 
nature,  unless  they  had  spent  with  him  some  such  solitary  evenings  as  these." 

Another  who  knew  him  well  wrote  after  his  death : — * 

"  How  he  taught  me — as  he  taught  many  whose  happiest  fortune  it  has 
been  to  share  now  and  again  in  those  quiet  hours  in  his  back  study — that 
all  of  the  bright  and  beautiful  in  life,  all  that  could  gladden  the  spirit  and 

See  Good  Words  for  1872,  p.  515. 


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SOME  CHARACTERISTICS.  339 

cheer  the  heart,  gained  yet  a  brighter  tint  in  tho  light  reflected  from  a 
Father's  love  :  that  mirth  became  more  deep,  and  so  much  more  real :  that 
each  good  gift  became  much  more  cherished  from  the  recognition  of  the 
Great  Giver  of  all.  And  here  truly,  it  has  seemed  to  me,  did  he  especially 
prove  himself  a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  ....  Nothing  was  more  strange 
to  me  at  first — nothing  came  to  be  accepted  by  me  as  more  natural  after- 
wards— than  the  constant  evidence  which  each  opportunity  of  private  inter- 
course with  this  great,  large-hearted,  noble-minded  man  afforded  me  of  the 
deep  undercurrent  in  his  thoughts  and  life.  I  never  knew  him  in  all  my 
meetings  with  him  force  a  reference  to  religious  thought  or  feeling.  I  never 
was  with  him  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  that  his  confidential  talk,  however 
conversational,  however  humorous  even,  had  not,  as  it  were  of  itself  and  as 
of  necessity,  disclosed  the  centre  round  which  his  whole  life  revolved." 

The  "  ceaseless  mimicry,"  which  had  provoked  his  father  when 
Norman  Macleod  was  a  boy,  and  the  wit  and  humour,  which  grew 
with  his  growth,  were  invaluable  possessions  to  himself  in  his  later 
years,  as  well  as  sources  of  delight  to  others.  Harassed  by  work 
almost  to  despair,  worried  past  endurance  by  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
men  and  women,  then,  as  per  contra,  he  would  indulge  in  some  humor- 
ous grimaces  and  apostrophes,  give  a  fresh  touch  to  a  ridiculous 
rhyme,  or  draw  a  series  of  funny  faces.  Odd  caricatures  were,  at  such 
times,  dropped  into  letters,  even  the  most  serious — sometimes  as  a 
heading,  more  usually  by  wray  of  signature.*  These  tricks  of  humour 
were  to  him  refreshing  as  well  as  amusing. 

One  of  his  favourite,  studies  in  the  way  of  drollery  was  Highland 
characters,  and  Highland  drovers  in  particular.  As  he  recollected  the 
boyish  awe  with  which  he  regarded  these  men  on  their  return  from 
the  great  "  Trysts  "  of  Falkirk  or  Dumbarton ;  the  absorbing  interest 

*A  fac-simile  is  here  given  of  one  of  these  illustrated  letters,  written  to  the  late  Mr. 
Murray,  of  Melrose,  in  reply  to  one  asking  for  his  autograph:  — 

"My  Dear  Mb.  Murray, 

"  Did  I  ever  reply  to  your  note  requesting  autographs  ?     I  believe  not. 

"The  reason  is  that  I  have  been  studying  ever  since  to  write  a  telling,  seraphic,  re- 
markable signature.     The  fact  is,  I  vary  my  signature  with  my  correspondents.     When 

I  write  my  wife  or  mother,  it  is  in  this  wise .     When  I  write  my  children,  it 

is  so ,  singularly  clear  and  beautiful.  To  crowned  heads  I  am  more  aristo- 
cratic, as .     To  Abraham  Lincoln  I  never  give  more  than 

"  Yours,  &c. 


"  To  the  Pope  it  is 

"  I'ours,  old  cock, 

"  f  Barony. 
"Ditto  with  Canterbury.    When  I  write  a  gentleman  like  yourself,  I  always  subscribe 
myself  as 

"  Your  faithful  serv. 


which  I  call  a  wearable,  good,  healthy  signature. 

"  To  my  brothers  and  sisters  I  use  signs,  such  as  intellectual,  serene,  — .     '.  -  piisitive, 
respectable,  orthodox,  doubtful. 

"  How  came  that  note  of  yours  to  turn  up  in  my  bag  with  one  hundred  other  letters, 
when  on  a  wet  day  I  have  returned  from  lunch  to  dinner  to  reply  to  them  ?  Such  a 
reply  !  When  you  have  received  this  evidence  of  my  remembrance  of  you,  burn  it,  or  I 
will — you." 


340  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

taken  by  the  people  in  their  accounts  of  the  markets,  and  prices  of 
"  stots,"  "  queys,"  and  all  varieties  of  sheep  ;  their  utter  indifference  to 
every  human  concern  except  cattle  and  cullies;  then  the  absurdity  of 
the  contrast  between  these  old  memories  and  his  immediate  cares  and 
troubles  would  fairly  overpower  him,  and  result  most  likely  in  a 
dramatic  representation  of  a  debate  about  the  quality  of  "  stock."  He 
bad  formed  for  himself  an  ideal  drover,  whom  he  named  Peter  Mac- 
Tavish,  round  whose  figure  a  world  of  ridiculous  fancies  was  grouped. 
Only  a  person  well  acquainted  with  Highland  character  could  have 
appreciated  the  wit  and  dramatic  truthfulness  of  this  conception 
Often,  when  his  father  was  oppressed  with  the  weakness  of  extreme 
ao-e,  Norman  would  go  clown  of  an  evening  to  cheer  him,  and  before 
approaching  those  more  solemn  subjects  with  which  their  intercourse 
always  closed,  he  would  stir  his  old  Highland  associations  and  tickle 
his  genial  fancy  by  a  personification  of  this  "  Peter,"  mingling,  in 
broken  Gaelic,  reflections  on  men  and  manners  with  discourses  on 
"  beasts,"  till  from  very  pain  of  laughter  his  father  would  beseech  him 
to  desist.  "Peter"  was  more  than  once  introduced  by  him  into 
strange  scenes.  When  in  Italy,  he  concocted  a  long  narrative,  show- 
ing the  connection  between  the  Pope's  Bulls  and  the  other  species 
"  Peter  "  had  sold  at  Falkirk,  and  in  not  a  few  hotel  books  the  sonorous 
rendering  Pietro  Tavisino  was  entered.  At  Moscow,  the  temptation  of 
bringing  the  drover  under  the  shadow  of  the  Kremlin  was  so  great, 
that  I  believe  he  gave  himself  no  other  designation  than  "  Peter  Mac- 
tavish,  from  Mull." 

This  sense  of  the  ludicrous  was  a  passion  which  seized  him  at  the 
most  unlikely  moments.  The  following  verses,  for  example,  were 
mostly  written  when  he  was  enduring  such  violent  pain  that  the  night 
was  spent  in  his  study,  and  he  had  occasionally  to  bend  over  the  back 
of  a  chair  for  relief : — 

CAPTAIN  FRAZERS  NOSE. 
Air.—"  The  Lass  o  Gowrie." 

0,  if  ye'r  at  Dumbarton  Fair, 
Gang  to  the  Castle  when  ye'r  there, 
And  see  a  sight  baith  rich  and  rare— 
The  nose  o'  Captain  Fmzer ! 

Unless  ye'r  blin'  or  unco  glee'd, 
A  mile  awa'  ye'r  sure  to  see't, 
And  neerer  han'  a  man  gauns  wi't 
That  owns  the  nose  o'  Frazer. 

It's  great  in  length,  it's  great  in  girth, 
It's  great  in  grief,  it's  great  in  mirth, 
Tho'  grown  wi'  years,  'twas  great  at  birth- 
It's  greater  far  than  Frazer  ! 

I've  heard  volcanoes  loudly  roaring, 
And  Niagara's  waters  pouring  ; 
But  oh,  gin  ye  had  heard  the  snorin' 
Frae  the  nose  o'  Captain  Frazer  ! 


SOME    CHARACTERISTICS.  341 

Tae  waukin'  sleepin'  congregations, 
Or  rouse  to  battle  sleepin'  nations, 
Gae  wa'  wi'  preachings  and  orations, 
Anil  try  the  nose  o'  Frazer  ! 

Gif  French  invaders  try  to  Ian' 
Upon  onr  glorious  British  stran', 
Fear  nocht  if  ships  are  no'  at  ban', 
But  trust  the  nose  o'  Frazer. 

Just  crak'  that  cannon  ower  the  shore, 
Weel  rammed  wi'  snuIF,  then  let  it  roar 
Ae  Hielan'  sneeze  !  then  never  more 
They'll  daur  the  nose  o'  Frazer  ! 

If  that  great  Nose  is  ever  deid, 
To  bury  it  ye  dinna  need, 
Nae  coffin  made  o'  wood  or  lead 
Could  hand  the  nose  o'  Frazer. 

But  let  it  sfan'  itsel'  alane 
Erect,  like  some  big  Druid  stane, 
That  a'  the  warl'  may  see  its  bane, 
"  In  memory  o'  Frazer  !"* 

Dumbarton,  September  1,  1771. 

*  He  afterwards  introduced  this  song  into  a  story,  which  was  not  completed,  and  has 
never  been  published,  and  added  the  following  note  : — 

"  No  one  can  read  this  song  without  being  painfully  struck  with  the  tone  of  exaggera- 
tion about  it.  Anxious,  however,  to  investigate  as  far  as  possible  into  this  matter,  we 
wrote  to  Mr.  MacGilvray,  the  keeper  of  the  Antiquarian  Museum  at  Dumbarton,  who, 
sympathising  with  us,  obligedly  sent  us  a  long  communication,  from  which  we  quote 
with  his  permission.  He  says  :  '  I  am  confirmed  in  your  views  regarding  the  exaggerated 
account  given  in  the  poem  of  "Captain  Frazer 's  Nose,"  by  a  long  correspondence  on  the 
subject,  as  a  scientific  question,  with  two  distinguished  savans.  They  both  decidedly 
think  that  a  human  nose,  by  the  constant  application  of  snuff  to  its  nostrils,  and  of 
Athole  brose,  which  they  properly  assume  to  possess  a  considerable  amount  of  alcoholic 
ingredients,  might,  acting  upon  it  from  within  through  the  nervous  system,  if  continued 
for  a  vast  and  incalculable  series  of  ages,  be  developed  at  last  into  a  proboscis  so  large 
as  ultimately  wholly  to  absorb  the  person  of  its  possessor.  Arguing  from  this  fact,  they 
also  believe  that,  by  a  recurrent  law  of  Nature,  the  original  organization  attached  to  a 
man  might  return  to  the  form  of  a  huge  annclide,  or  possibly  earthworm,  which  might, 
like  the  dragon  of  romance,  prove  a  terror  to  the  country,  and  might  thus  originate  a 
new  age  of  romantic,  poetry,  or  even  a  religion  !  But  they  treat  as  purely  mythical  the 
existence  of  any  nose  in  this  age  such  as  is  alleged  to  have  belonged  to  Captain  Frazer 
or  to  any  other  of  our  race  at  the  present  stage  of  its  progress.  If  this  is  asserted,  they 
demand  the  bone  of  Frazer's  nose  for  scientific  examination. '  If  more  full  and  com- 
plete information  on  this  great  subjeet  is  sought  by  our  more  scientific  readers,  we  must 
refer  them  to  the  learned  Professor  H.'s  paper,  'On  the  Development  of  the  Nasal 
Organ  in  Man,  with  its  natural  selection  of  snuff  among  some  savage  nations,'  read 
before  the  last  meeting  of  the  British  Association,  and  which  was  received  with  pro- 
digious sneezes.  '  With  my  profound  reverence  for  Science,'  Mr.  MacGilvray  goes  on 
to  say,  '  I  need  hardly  say  that  I  heartily  concur  in  these  conclusions  of  the  learned 
gentleman,  and  leave  the  whole  question  in  perfect  peace  to  be  finally  decided  by  the 
races  which  shall  appear  as  our  descendant;  in  future  ages.  But  as  all  true  science,  as 
the  great  Goethe  once  remarked  (so,  at  least,  I  read  in  a  newspaper),  first  departs  out 
of  sight  like  an  eagle,  then  returns  as  a  servant  to  our  kitchen  to  make  itself  useful — 
the  true  thus  ending  always  in  the  practical — so  do  these  grand  speculations  lead  to  this 
agreeable  conclusion,  that,  for  the  present  generation,  at  least,  savages  and  civilised, 
clergy  and  laity,  may  snuff  and  partake  even  of  Athole  brose  without  any  fear  of  their 
noses  becoming  a  burden  to  themselves  or  a  terror  to  the  country.' 

"We  are  glad  to  serve  the  cause  of  Science  by  communicating  this  splendid  result  of 
its  profound  researches  to  the  world  !" 


342  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

No  one  who  recollects  the  importance  he  attached  to  district  visit- 
ing will  misunderstand  the  verses  which  follow,  as  if  they  were  meant 
seriously  to  discourage  such  efforts  : — 

PATRICK  MACPHUDD. 

HINTS   OX  DISTRICT   VISITING   BY  GOOD   LADIE3. 

Miss  Jemima  MacDowal,  the  parson's  sweet  jewel, 

Is  fair  and  red  as  a  rose  coming  out  of  its  bud, 
But  oeh,   "  by  the  powers,"  what  attention  she  showers, 

On  that  thundering  blackguard,  big  Patrick  MacPhudd, 

She  says  she  is  sartain  and  shure  to  convart  him, 

And  to  lift  the  ould  Catholic  out  of  the  mud, 
And  so  she  is  walking,  and  every  day  talking, 

To  Mistress,  or  Misses,  or  Mister  MacPhudd. 

She's  so  sweet  a  bit  cratur,  and  humble  by  natu* 

As  to  carry  down  soup,  or  a  cast  away  Dud  ; 
A  cap  for  the  lady,  a  frock  for  the  baby, 

Or  a  top-coat  for  ragged  ould  Patrick  MacPhudd. 

"  May  the  saint  blessings  send  you,  and  always  defend  you 

From  pestilence,  famine,  from  thunder  and  flood  ; 
May  archangels  guard  you,  and  Mary  reward  you," 

Says  the  oily  ould  father,  Patrick  MacPhudd. 

Ould  Patrick  so  grateful,  sends  out  for  the  nacleful, 

And  drinks  till  he  lies  like  a  pig  in  the  mud  ; 
There  his  wife  too  is  lying,  while  the  children  are  crying, 

And  both  are  well  thrashed  by  sweet  Patrick  MacPhudd. 

Every  day  he  is  muddled — every  night  he  gets  fuddled, 
On  pay-days  he's  fighting  and  covered  with  blood  ; 

He's  a  Catholic  Sunday,  ami  a  Protestant  Monday— 
"  Och,  I'll  not  tell  a  be,"  says  honest  MacPhudd. 

"You  thundering  old  blackguard,"  says  Father  MacTaggert  ; 

The  Priest  trembled  over  with  rage  where  lie  stood  ; 
"  Is  it  true  ye're  convarted,  and  by  swaddlers  pervarted  ? 

Look  me  straight  in  the  face,  and  deny  it,  MacPhudd." 

"  Convarted  !  Parvarted  !"  howled  Pat  broken-hearted, 

"  I  wish  I  could  drink  up  her  Protestant  blood  ; 
I  vow  by  Saint  Peter,  I'd  roast  her  and  eat  her, 

And  crunch  all  her  bones,"  says  sweet  darling  MacPhudd. 

And  now  all  good  ladies,  who  visit  bad  Paddies, 

Be  advised  just  to  let  them  keep  quiet  in  the  mud, 
Ami  spend  all  your  labours  on  dacent  Scotch  neighbours, 

And  not  on  ould  blackguards  like  Patrick  MacPhudd. 

December,  1856. 

"  The  Waggin'  o'  our  Dog's  Tail,"  in  which  were  embodied  the  sup- 
posed reflections  of  his  clog  Skye  upon  men  and  manners,  was  fre- 
quently sung  by  him  in  later  years.  The  earnest,  meditative  coun- 
tenance,  and  the   quaint   accentuation   with   which  he  rendered  it, 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS.  343 

accompanied  by  a  suggestive  twirl  of  Lis  thumb,  to  indicate  the  approv- 
ing "  wag"  of  the  tail,  lent  indescribable  drollery  to  the  words. 

"THE  WAGGIN'  0'  OUR  DOG'S  TAIL." 
Air.— "The  Ixrrfn'  c'  ths  door." 

"We  hae  a  dog  that  wags  his  tail 

(He's  a  bit  o'  a  wag  lumsel'  0  !) 
Every  day  he  gangs  down  the  town, 
At  nicht  his  news  to  tell  0 ! 

The  waggin'  o'  our  dog's  tail,  how-wow  I 
The  waggin'  o'  our  dc^'s  tail  1 


OO' 


He  saw  the  Provost  o'  the  town, 

Parading  down  the  street  0 ! 
Quo'  he,   "  Ye're  no  like  my  lord, 

For  ye  canna  see  your  feet  0  !" 

The  waggin',  &c. 

He  saw  a  man  grown  unco'  poor. 

And  looking  sad  and  sick  0 ! 
Quo'  he,   "Cheer  up,  lor  ilka  dog 

Has  aye  a  bane  to  pick  0!" 

The  waggin',  &c. 

He  saw  a  man  wi'  mony  a  smile, 

Wi'out  a  grain  o'  sowl  0 ! 
Quo'  he,   "I've  noticed  many  a  dog, 

Could  bite  and  never  growl  0!'' 

The  waggiu',  &c. 

He  saw  a  man  look  gruff  and  cross, 

Wi'out  a  grain  o'  spite  0! 
Quo'  he,   "  He's  like  a  hantle*  dogs 

Whose  bark  is  waur  than  their  bite  0!" 
The  wr>ggin',  &c. 

He  saw  an  M.P.  unco'  proud, 

Because  o'  power  and  pay  0 ! 
Quo'  he,   "Your  tail  is  cockit  heigh, 

But  ilka  dog  has  his  day  C!" 

The  waggin',  &c 

He  saw  some  ministers  fighting  hard, 

And  a'  frae  a  bit  o'  pride  0! 
'**  It's  a  pity,"  quo'  he,   "  when  dogs  fa'  out 

Aboot  their  ao  fireside  0!" 

The  waggin',  &c. 

He  saw  a  man  gaun  staggerin'  hame, 
His  face  baith  black  and  blue  0! 

Quo'  he,  "  I'm  ashamed  o'  the  stupid  brute, 
For  never  a  dog  gets  fou'  0!" 

The  waggin',  &c. 

He  saw  a  man  wi'  a  hairy  face, 

Wi'  beard  and  big  moustache  0  ! 
Quo'  he,   "  We  baith  are  towsy  dogs, 
But  ye  hae  claes  and  cash  0!" 

The  waggin',  &a 
*  Many. 


344  LIFE  OF  NOllMAN  MACLEOD. 

He  saw  a  crowd  in  a  bonny  park, 

Where  dogs  were  not  allowed  0! 
Quo'  he,   "  The  rats  in  Kirk  and  State, 

If  we  were  there  might  rue't  0!" 

The  waggin',  &c. 

He  saw  a  man  that  fleeched*  a  lord, 

And  flatterin'  lees  did  tell  O  ! 
Quo'  he,   "A dog's  owre  proud  for  that, 

He'll  only  claw  himsel'  0!" 

The  waggin',  &c. 

He  saw  a  doctor  drivin'  about, 

An'  ringing  every  bell  0! 
Quo'  he,   "  Ive  been  as  sick's  a  dog, 

But  I  aye  could  cure  mysel'  0!" 

The  waggin',  &c 

He  heard  a  lad  and  laddie  braw 

Singin'  a  grand  duet  0! 
Quo'  he,   "  I've  heard  a  cat  and  dog 

Could  yowl  as  weel  as  that  0  !  " 

The  waggin',  &c 

He  saw  a  laddie  swaggerin'  big 

Frae  tap  to  tae  sae  trim  0! 
Quo'  he,   "It's  no'  for  a  dog  to  laugh 

That  ance  was  a  pup  like  him  0!" 

The  waggin',  &c. 

Our  doggie  he  cam'  hame  at  e'en, 
And  scarted  baith  his  lugs  0! 
Quo'  he,   "  If  folks  had  only  tails, 
They'd  be  maist  as  gude  as  dogs  0!" 
The  waggin',  &c. 
\ 

Another  of  his  favourite  songs  was  one  which  he  composed  while  on 
a  visit  to  a  friend  in  Ayrshire,  who  was  an  enthusiastic  curler. 
Norman,  who  never  even  attempted  to  curl,  heartily  enjoyed  the 
exciting  scene  on  the  ice,  and  the  keenness  displayed  by  "  tenant  and 
laird "   as  they   strove   together    for  the   honours   of  the   "  roaring 


game  " 


CURLING  SONG,  f 
Air. — "Come  under  my  plaidie." 

A*  nicht  it  was  freezin',  a'  nicht  I  was  sneezin', 

"Tak'  care,"  quo'  the  wife,   "  Gudeman,  o'  yer  cough." 
A  fig  for  the  sneezin',  hurrah  for  the  freezin', 

For  the  day  we're  to  play  the  Bonspiel  on  the  loch ! 
Then  get  up,  my  braw  leddy,  the  breakfast  mak'  ready, 

For  the  sun  on  the  snaw  drift's  beginnin'  to  blink, 
Gie  me  bannocks  or  brochan,  I'm  aff  to  the  lochan, 
To  mak'  the  stanes  flee  to  the  'T'  o'  the  rink. 

Then  hurrah  for  the  curling  frae  Girvan  to  Stirling! 

Hurrah  for  the  lads  o'  the  besom  and  stane! 
Ready  noo!    Soop  it  up!     Clap  a  guard!    Steady  noo! 
Oh  curling  abune  a'  the  games,  stands  alane. 

*  Flattered. 
+  This  song  was  afterwards  published  in  Blackwood's  Magazine. 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS.  345 

The  ice  it  is  splendid,  it  canna  be  mended, 

Like  a  glass  ye  can  glowr  in't  an'  shave  aff  yer  beard  ; 
Ami  see  how  they  gaither,  comin'  owre  the  brown  heather, 

The  master  and  servants,  the  tenant  and  laird. 
There's  braw  J.  0.  Fairlie,  lie's  there  late  and  early, 

Butter  curlers  than  he  or  Hugh  Conn  canna  be; 
Wi'  the  lads  frae  Kilwinnin',  they'll  send  the  stanes  spinnin', 

Wi'  a  Khurr  and  a  curr,  till  they  sit  roun'  the  'T.' 

Then  hurrah  for  the  eurlin',  &c. 

It's  an  unco'  like  story,  that  baitli  Whig  and  Tory, 

Maun  aye  collyshangy,*  like  dogs  owre  a  bane, 
An'  that  a'  denominations  are  wantin'  in  patience, 

For  nae  kirk  will  tholef  to  let  ithers  alane. 
But  in  fine  frosty  weather,  let  a'  meet  thegither, 

Wi'  brooms  in  their  hauns,  an'  a  stane  near  the  'T'; 
Then  Ha!  Ha!  by  my  certies,  ye'll  see  boo  a'  parties 

Like  blithers  will  love,  and  like  blithers  agree! 

Then  hurrah  for  the  eurlin',  &c. 

His  way  of  training  his  children  was  a  practical  illustration  of  the 
teaching  given  to  parents  in  his  "  Home  School."  The  key-note  of  it 
all  was  loving  companionship.  He  was  so  much  in  sympathy  with 
them  that  he  seemed  to  grow  with  their  growth  from  their  earliest 
years.  When  he  was  worn  out  with  study  his  resort  was  the  nursery, 
where  he  woidd  invent  all  sorts  of  games,  turn  chairs  upside  down  to 
represent  ships,  rig  up  newspapers  as  mimic  sails,  and  give  the  baby 
an  imaginary  voyage  round  the  room.  Or  he  would  in  the  evenings 
lie  on  the  sofa  or  floor,  with  all  the  little  ones  nestled  about  him, 
listening  to  music,  or  telling  them  the  wonderful  adventures  of  "Little 
Mrs.  Brown "  and  "  Abel  Feragus."  These  stories  went  on  like  the 
Arabian  Nights,  with  new  incidents  invented  for  each  fresh  occasion. 
They  were  all  told  dramatically,  and  often  the  fun  was  so  great  that 
he  would  himself  laugh  as  heartily  as  the  children.  But  he  had  a 
higher  object  in  view  than  mere  amusement  when  composing  his 
nursery  tales ;  they  were  never  without  an  undercurrent  of  moral 
teaching,  and  never  failed  to  impress  lessons  of  kindness,  generosity, 
bravery,  and  truth. 

He  never  left  home  for  any  length  of  time  without  bringing  some 
little  memento  to  each  child,  and  to  each  servant  as  well 

Carrying  out  this  principle  of  companionship  with  his  children,  he 
would  watch  for  their  return  when  they  had  been  at  any  holiday 
entertainment,  and  have  them  "  tell  from  the  beginning  "  all  they  had 
seen  and  heard.  When  in  the  Highlands  during  Summer,  he  entered 
like  one  of  themselves  into  all  their  amusements.  They  remember 
with  special  delight  one  moonlight  night,  when,  sciatica  notwithstand- 
ing, he  insisted  on  playing  "  Hide  and  Seek"  with  them,  and  became 
so  excited  with  the  game,  that  although  both  shoes  had  fallen  off,  he 
continued  rushing  over  the  grass  and  through  the  bushes  till  they 
were  all  exhausted,  his  wife  in  vain  entreating  him  to  take  care.     His 

*  Quarrel.  *r  Endure. 


346  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

desire  was,  in  short,  to  possess  their  frank  confidence,  and  to  maks 
their  memory  of  home  thoroughly  happy,  and  in  both  th^se  respects 
his  efforts  were  rewarded  with  abundant  success.  It  was  quite 
characteristic  of  him  that  he  made  it  a  principle  always  to  keep  his 
word  with  his  children,  even  in  trifles,  and  to  avoid  the  irritation  of 
fault-finding  in  little  things.  Only  on  two  points  was  he  uncompro- 
mising even  to  sternness.  The  slightest  appearance  of  selfishness  or 
of  want  of  truth  was  at  once  severely  dealt  with ;  but  when  the  rebuke 
was  given,  there  was  an  end  of  it,  and  he  took  pains  to  make  the 
culprit  feel  that  confidence  was  completely  restored,  for  he  believed 
that  the  preservation  of  self-respect  was  as  important  a  point  as  any 
in  the  education  of  a  child. 

These  Summers,  spent  with  his  family  in  the  Highlands,  were  full 
of  a  glory  which  every  year  seemed  only  to  deepen.  Whether  at  his 
favourite  Cuilchenna,  on  the  Linnhe  Loch  with  its  majestic  views  of 
Glencoe  or  Glengoar,  or  at  Java  Lodge  in  Mull,  commanding  "one  of 
the  finest  panoramas  in  Europe,"  or  at  Aird's  Bay,  fronting  the 
Buachaill  Etive  and  Ben  Cruachan,  or  at  Geddes,  with  its  hallowed 
associations,  he  entered  into  the  joy  of  nature  with  a  rapture  even 
greater  than  in  youth. 

He  thus  describes  the  scenery  round  Cuilchenna  : — 

"  Suppose  ourselves  seated  on  a  green  headland,  rising  a  few  hundred  feet 
above  the  sea-level.  In  itself  this  elevation  is  remarkable  for  not'dns:  more 
than  the  greenest  of  grass  ;  consequently,  in  the  estimation  of  the  shepherd, 
it  is  one  of  the  '  best  places  for  wintering  sheep  ;'  and  it  is  the  more  fitted 
for  such  a  purpose  owing  to  its  being  broken  up  by  innumerable  hollows  and 
dykes  of  trap,  which  afford  shelter  to  the  sheep  from  every  wind.  More- 
over the  snow  seldom  lies  here,  as  it  is  speedily  thawed  by  the  breath  cf  the 
temperate  sea.  It  has  its  own  secluded  spots  of  Highland  beauty,  too, 
though  these  are  seldom,  if  ever,  visited  by  any  one  save  the  solitary  herd- 
boy.  In  these  nooks,  nature,  as  if  rejoicing  in  the  undisturbed  contem- 
plation of  her  own  gi'ace  and  loveliness,  lavishly  grows  her  wild  flowers  and 
spreads  out  her  drooping  ferns.  Nay,  she  seems  unconsciously  to  adorn 
herself  with  tufts  of  primroses,  bluebells,  and  crimson  heather,  and  slyly  re- 
tires into  little  recesses,  to  enter  which  one  has  to  put  aside  the  branches  of 
mountain  ash  clothed  with  bunches  of  coral  fruit,  as  well  as  the  weeping 
birch  and  hazel,  in  oi-der  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  rivulet  which  tchishes  be- 
tween banks  glorious  with  green  mosses,  lichens,  ferns,  honeysuckle,  and 
wild  roses.  In  the  spring  such  recesses  are  a  very  home  of  love  for  piping 
birds.  At  the  base  of  our  unknown,  untrodden,  promontory,  are  clefts  and 
caves,  worn  and  cut  into  the  strangest  shapes  by  the  everlasting  beat  of  the 
ocean  tides.  In  each  round  rocky  bowl,  filled  with  pure  sea-water,  is  a 
forest  of  fairy-like  trees  of  all  colours,  strangely  mingled — brown,  green,  and 
white.  Molluscs,  and  fish  almost  microscopic,  together  with  a  solitary 
crab  here  and  there,  move  about  in  this  their  little  world  of  beauty,  in  which, 
to  the  observer,  there  seems  indeed  to  be  nothing  but  purity  and  joy. 

"  But  the  grand  and  commanding  object  at  the  head  of  Loch  Leven  is 
Glencoe.       Seen  from  our  promontory,  its  precipices  rise  like  a  huge  wall, 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS.  347 

dark  as  though  built  of  lava.  Tremendous  buttresses,  from  base  to  summit, 
disengage  themselves  from  their  surface,  and  separated  from  each  other  by 
depths  such  as  might  have  been  cut  and  cloven  by  Thor's  great  hammer, 
wielded  in  stormy  passion.  The  mountain  is  scored  across,  too,  by  dee}) 
lines  and  platforms  of  trap,  as  though  they  marked  the  successive  floods  of 
molten  rock  poured  out  by  volcanic  forces.  Nothing  can  be  more  utterly 
sombre,  sad,  and  desolate  than  this  Glencoe.  We  have  watched  it  in  its 
every  mood  ;  sometimes  when  it  seemed  to  sleep  like  a  wearied  giant, 
wrapped  in  the  sun-mist ;  sometimes  when  it  began  to  arrest  the  western 
clouds,  until,  as  if  overcome  by  their  stifling  power,  they  covered  it  with 
impenetrable  masses  black  as  night ;  or,  again,  when  slowly  and  solemnly 
it  unveiled  itself  after  the  storm,  and  the  sun  crept  up  to  it,  after  visiting 
the  green  fields  and  trees  below,  and  pouring  itself  on  white  cottages  and 
the  sails  of  fishing-boats,  until  at  last  it  scattered  the  clouds  from  the  dark 
precipices  and  sent  the  mists  flying — not  fiercely  but  kindly,  not  hastily 
but  slowly — in  white  smoke  up  the  glens,  tinging  with  auroral  light  the 
dark  ridge  as  they  streamed  over  it,  while  the  infinite  sky  appeared  without 
a  cloud  over  all,  and  as  if  sujiported  by  the  mighty  pillars  of  the  glen. 

"  Turning  to  the  east  the  scene  is  still  characteristic  of  our  Highlands. 
To  right  and  left,  to  north  and  south,  is  the  sea-river  of  which  we  have 
spoken.  Southward,  it  flows  past  the  green  Lismore,  on  past  Oban,  Mull, 
until  it  is  lost  between  misty  headlands  in  the  far  Atlantic,  whose  waves 
boom  on  the  western  steeps  of  Jia-a. 

"  The  scenery  to  the  west,  which  hems  in  this  stretch  of  inland  sea,  is 
utterly  desolate. 

"  .  .  .  .  Amidst  this  scenery  we  spent  a  considerable  portion  of  last 
summer,  and  gazed  on  it  from  day  to  day,  and  from  morn  to  even,  with  de- 
light and  reverence.  We  have  fished  alon^  its  sea-coast  almost  everv  even- 
incr. 

"  What  unsurpassed  glories  have  we  thus  witnessed  !  It  verily  seemed 
to  us  then  as  though  the  setting  sun  dropped  down  nearer  earth  to  concen- 
trate all  his  powers  on  that  one  landscape  ;  to  display  untold  beauty  and 
adorn  it  with  glory  from  the  head  of  the  western  glen  above  the  loch  down 
to  the  sea ;  and  compelling  even  dark  Glencoe,  as  well  as  the  surrounding 
hills,  to  do  it  honour  and  bow  before  it  with  their  golden  crowns  and  purple 
robes.  First  of  all,  the  sun  began  to  collect  round  himself  clouds  spread  out 
into  seas,  grouped  into  islets,  with  colours  such  as  no  pen  or  pencil  has  ever 
conveyed  the  faintest  impression  of.  Then  beams  of  soft  silver  sheen  shot 
through  every  crossing  valley  and  down  through  every  cleft  and  cranny  in 
the  serrated  ridges,  penetrating  the  nether  dimness,  illuminating  the  curling 
smoke  of  the  valleys,  and  transfiguring  the  dark  pines  and  precipices,  and 
lighting  up  hidden  corners.  It  touched  the  green  pastures  of  the  shores  of 
Loch  Leven  as  with  a  magic  rod ;  it  kindled  the  mountain  ridges  to  the 
east,  so  that  these,  after  all  the  lower  valleys  were  dark,  retained  the  light 
of  day.  Having  glorified  Glencoe  from  base  to  summit,  it  concentrated  its 
beams,  ere  parting,  on  the  loftiest  peaks,  until  they  shone  in  a  subdued  ruby 
light,  and  then  they  were  tipped  with  such  bright  burnished  gold  as  is  never 
seen  anywhere  except  on  the  icy  aiguilles  of  the  Alp^.  Gradually  the  halo 
seemed  to  pass  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  lingered  for  a  space  among  the 
clouds  with  that  splendour  and  wonder  of  glory  so  overpowering,  yet  so 


348  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

variable — a  revelation  of  the  Almighty  Artist,  which,  once  seen,  remains 
a  precious  gift  stored  in  the  memory,  never  to  fade  away. 

"  On  these  evenings  the  marvel  nearest  to  the  eye  was  the  appearance  of 
the  sea!  It  was  wholly  indescribable.  But  merely  to  mention  it  will  re- 
call similar  spectacles  to  others.  The  waves  undulated  in  gentle  swell  with 
a  heavy,  dull,  molten,  hue.  Save  for  the  movements  of  flocks  of  birds, 
which  swam  and  dived  wherever  the  shoals  of  fish  disturbed  its  glassy  sur- 
face, it  seemed  cold  and  dead.  But  as  the  setting  sun  began  to  kindle  its 
waves  with  subdued  lights,  aided  by  glowing  cloud  and  mountain  of  every 
imaginable  hue,  there  spread  over  the  wide  expanse  of  still  water  such  a 
combination  of  colours — ruby,  amethyst,  purple,  blue,  green,  and  grey — 
gleaming,  sparkling,  and  interchanging  like  the  Aurora,  until  every  gentle 
undulation  was  more  gorgeous  than  the  robes  of  Eastern  kings,  when  un- 
rolled from  the  looms  of  Benares  !  "* 

These  scenes  afforded  him  more  than  "  tranquil  restoration ;"  they 
were  a  continual  "  passion  and  delight."  And  the  joy  they  conveyed  to 
him  he  tried  to  share  with  his  children,  in  this,  as  in  so  many  other 
things,  evincing  his  eagerness  to  recreate  for  them  the  same  Highland 
associations  as  had  made  his  own  early  days  so  happy.  None  of  his 
boys  showed  more  excitement  than  he  when  they  were  out  fishing  on 
the  loch,  and  when  there  happened  to  be  a  good  '  take.'  On  the  cro- 
quet green,  competing  with  his  children,  he  was  the  keenest  of  the 
party.  When  a  chance  piper  arrived,  and  the  floor  wTas  cleared  for  a 
reel,  he  heartily  enjoyed  and  cheerily  applauded  the  merriment  of  the 
dancers.     What  he  felt  at  such  times  he  has  thus  expressed : — 

"  'Dance,  my  children  !  lads  and  lasses ! 

Cut  and  shuffle,  toes  and  heels  ! 
Piper,  roar  from  every  chanter 

Hurricanes  of  Highland  reels  ! 

"  'Make  the  old  barn  shake  with  laughter, 

Beat  its  flooring  like  a  drum  ; 
Batter  it  with  Tullochgorum, 

Till  the  storm  without  is  dumb  ! 

"  'Sweep  in  circles  like  a  whirlwind, 

Flit  across  like  meteors  glancing  ; 
Crack  your  fiDgers,  shout  in  gladness, 

Think  of  nothing  but  of  dancing  !' 

"  Thus  a  grey-haired  father  speaketh, 

As  he  claps  his  hands  and  cheers  ; 
Yet  his  heart  is  quietly  dreaming, 

And  his  eyes  are  dimmed  with  tears. 

"  Well  he  knows  this  world  of  sorrow, 
Well  he  knows  this  world  of  sin, 
Well  he  knows  the  race  before  them, 
What's  to  lose,  and  what's  to  win  ! 

"  But  he  hears  a  far  off  music. 

Guiding  all  the  stately  spheres, 
In  his  father-heart  it  echoes, 

So  he  claps  his  hands  and  cheers." 

"  From  an  Essay  on  Highland  Scenery  which  he  wrotf  f<>r  a  volume,  published  at  her 
Majesty's  desire,  illustrative  of  "Mountain,  Loch,  and  Glen." 


SOME  CEABA  UTERIS TR  'S.  349 

This  participation  in  the  amusements  oi  his  children  passed  naturally 
as  they  grew  older,  into  the  higher  companionship  of  sharing  all  their 
pursuits  and  studies.  Jlis  method  of  conveying  to  them  religious  in- 
struction was  as  effective  as  it  was  simple.  He  trained  them  to  speak 
to  him  on  religious  subjects,  and  tell  him  their  difficulties,  and  so  edu- 
cated them  in  the  truest  sense.  Especially  in  later  years,  when  his 
Sunday  evenings  were  not  so  fully  occupied  with  public  duty,  he  spent 
hours  that  were  as  happy  to  them  as  to  himself,  in  hearing  what  they 
had  to  say,  while  some  part  of  Scripture  was  read  in  common.  How- 
ever trivial  the  idea  or  the  difficulty  of  the  child  might  seem  to  others, 
he  always  dealt  carefully  with  it,  and  tried  by  means  of  it  to  impress 
some  principle  which  was  worth  remembering.  "  When  I  asked  him 
about  anything  I  did  not  understand,"  writes  one  of  his  daughters,  "  my 
dear  father  would  say,  '  That's  right.  On  your  way  through  life  you'll 
come  across  many  a  stumbling-block  that  you  will  think  quite  im- 
passable, but  always  come  to  your  father,  for  he's  an  old  traveller  who 
can  show  you  a  path  through  many  a  difficulty.'  I  treasure  what  he 
said  to  me  when  I  spoke  to  him  about  some  fault  of  natural  tempera- 
ment. '  Don't  be  discouraged.  It  involves  in  many  ways  a  benefit. 
The  cure  is  to  think  more  about  God.  Look  at  yourself  as  much  as 
you  can  as  you  think  He  would  look  at  you,  and  look  on  others  in  the 
same  way.'  Oh  that  I  were  like  him !  Such  trust,  such  love,  such 
utter  forgetfulness  of  self,  such  sympathy  and  charity  and  energy ! 
Surely  these  things  are  born  with  people,  and  not  acquirements.  Yet 
he  once  said  to  me,  '  You  have  no  right  to  blame  your  natural  dispo- 
sition. By  so  doing  you  blame  God  who  gave  it  to  you.  No  quality 
is  bad  unless  perverted.'  " 

There  was  a  characteristic  of  his  later  life  which  was  the  more  re- 
markable that  his  youth  gave  no  promise  of  it.  He  was  naturally 
impatient  of  details,  careless  about  hours  and  arrangements,  hurried 
and  impulsive,  but  experience  taught  him  the  importance  of  punctu- 
ality and  forethought,  and  in  later  years  his  attention  to  minutiae,  and 
the  careful  and  businesslike  manner  in  which  he  fulfilled  his  public 
engagements,  surprised  those  who  had  known  him  with  other  habits. 

His  later  manner  of  preaching  differed  from  his  earlier,  and  as  a  rule, 
admitting  many  exceptions,  partook  more  of  the  nature  of  teaching — 
sometimes  of  homely  talk — than  of  set  discourse.  Simplicity  was  its 
constant  characteristic,  but  there  was  more ;  for  ever  and  anon  came 
bursts  of  indignant  denunciation  against  what  was  mean  or  selfish,  or 
brief  but  thrilling  touches  of  imagination  or  pathos  that  broke  the  even 
flow  of  instruction.  "  His  style  reminds  me,"  said  an  auditor,  who  was 
himself  a  celebrated  preacher,  "  of  the  smooth  action  of  a  large  engine, 
moving  with  the  ease  of  great  power  held  in  restraint."  "  It  was  not," 
says  another  hearer,  "  so  much  what  is  called  earnest  preaching,  as  the 
speaking  of  a  powerful  and  earnest  man  who  wished  to  do  you  good, 
and  threw  everything  else  aside  ior  that  end." 


350  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

"lam  persuaded  we  will  all  acknowledge  that  we  never  listened  to  any 
man  whose  word  came  so  home  to  the  heart.  For  myself,  at  least,  I  can 
say  that  no  preacher  ever  had  such  power  over  me  ;  nor  was  the  secret  ot 
his  power  hard  to  discover.  .  .  .  That  which  told  more  than  all ,  upon 
me  was  the  total  absence  of  all  thought  of  self  which  characterised  his 
preaching.  While  listening  to  him,  the  thought  never  crossed  my  mind 
that  he  had  been  making  a  sermon.  Whether  composed  in  his  study,  or  left, 
as  was  so  often  the  case,  to  such  language  as  the  impulse  of  the  moment 
might  suggest,  his  sermons  always  appeared  to  me  of  a  purely  extempora- 
neous character;  because  whether  wholly  or  partially  written,  or  not  written 
at  all,  they  were  the  spontaneous  outflowing  of  his  heart  at  the  moment, 
with  no  more  art  or  effort  than  what  is  seen  in  the  natural  rush  of  one  of 
his  own  loved  Highland  rivers  ;  clear,  and  deep,  and  strong  as  they,  but  with 
as  little  consciousness  of  any  private  aim,  or  any  desire  to  gratify  a  selfish 
feeling  or  to  win  human  praise."  * 

"  Other  preachers  we  have  heard,"  wrote  Dean  Stanley  in  the  Times,  "both 
in  England  and  France,  more  learned,  more  eloquent,  more  penetrating  to 
particular  audiences,  but  no  preacher  has  arisen  within  our  experience,  with 
an  equal  power  of  riveting  the  general  attention  of  the  varied  congregations 
of  modern  times  ....  none  who  so  combined  the  self-control  of  the  pre- 
pared discourse  with  the  directness  of  extemporaneous  effort ;  none  with 
whom  the  sermon  approached  so  nearly  to  its  original  and  proper  idea — of 
a  conversation — a  serious  conversation,  in  which  the  fleeting  thought,  the 
unconscious  objection  of  the  listener,  seemed  to  be  readily  caught  up  by  a 
passing  parenthesis— a  qualifying  word  of  the  speaker ;  so  that,  in  short, 
the  speaker  seemed  to  throw  himself  with  the  Avhole  force  of  his  soul  on  the 
minds  of  his  hearers,  led  captive  against  their  will  by  something  more  than 
eloquence." 

Although  at  one  period  he  occasionally  wrote  his  sermon  seven  times 
over  before  he  preached  it,  there  were  years  during  which  he  seldom 
wrote  any  discourse  fully  out,*f*  but  preached  from  notes  in  which  the 
sequence  of  ideas  was  clearly  marked.  These  notes,  though  often 
jetted  on  Saturday  afternoon,  were  the  result  of  constant  cogitation 
during  the  week. 

As  might  have  been  expected  from  his  temperament,  he  was  deeply 
interested  in  the  movements  of  modern  thought.  As  he  had  long  fore- 
cast the  coming  storm  in  the  theological  atmosphere,  he  was  not  taken 
aback  by  its  approach,  and,  in  order  that  his  hearers  should  be  prepared 
for  it,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  enforcing  guiding  principles,  rather  than 

*  From  a  sermon  entitled  "The  Hearer's  Responsibility,'' preached  in  the  Barony 
Church  on  the  12th  January,  1873,  by  the  Rev.  William  Robertson,  D.D.,  of  New  Grey- 
f liars,  Edinburgh,  on  the  occasion  of  his  introducing  the  Rev.'  Dr.  Lang  as  successor  to 
Dr.  Maeleod. 

t  He  was  once  preaching  in  a  district  in  Ayrshire,  where  the  reading  of  a  sermon  is 
regarded  as  the  greatest  fault  of  which  a  minister  can  be  guilty.  When  the  congrega- 
tion dispersed,  an  old  woman  oveiflowing  with  enthusiasm,  addiessed  her  neighbour, 
"  Did  ye  ever  hear  onylhing  sae  gran'  ?  Was  ha  that  a  sermon  ?"  But  all  her  expres- 
sions of  admiration  being  met  by  stolid  silence,  she  shouted,  "  Speak,  woman  !  Was  na- 
that  a  Minion  ?"  "Ou  aye,"  leplicd  her  friend,  sulkily,  "but  he  read  il."  "  Read  it!" 
said  the  other,  with  indignant  emphasis.  "I  wadna  hue  cared  if  he  had  whustled  it!" 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS.  351 

of  discussing  special  questions.  The  ground  which  lie  generally  took 
was  moral  move  than  intellectual.  Without  ignoring  the  issues  raised 
by  modern  inquiry,  he  sought,  as  the  ultimate  basis  of  religious  con- 
viction, to  appeal  to  the  moral  instincts,  and  to  reach  that  spirit  in 
man,  which  he  believed  is  bound  to  recognize  the  spiritual  glory  of 
God  on  the  face  of  Christ,  as  much  as  intellect  is  bound  to  confess  the 
conclusions  of  reason.  He  clung  with  such  firm  faith  to  Christ,  and 
loved  God  with  such  fulness  of  childlike  affection  ;  holy  Scripture  was 
to  him  so  verily  the  Word  of  God  ;  and  its  salient  truths  were  so  self- 
evident  to  his  heart  and  conscience,  that  no  verbal  criticism,  no  logic 
of  the  lower  understanding,  could  for  a  moment  shake  his  loyalty  to 
the  eternal  fitness  of  the  revelation  of  love  and  holiness  in  Christ  which 
was  self-evident  to  his  spirit.  But  while  he  was  thus  firmly  anchored 
to  essential  catholic  beliefs,  he  '  could  swing  with  a  free  cable,'  as  he 
used  to  say,  in  reference  to  many  minor  questions.  For  that  hard 
negative  criticism,  whose  only  instrument  is  keen  or  coarse  intellect, 
and  which  is  prepared  with  callous  determination  to  deny  whatever 
cannot  be  logically  demonstrated,  he  had  no  liking.  He  was  too  sym- 
pathetic not  to  be  deeply  affected  by  the  religious  doubts  and  diffi- 
culties which  were  pressing  as  a  heavy  burden  on  many,  who  in  utter 
perplexity  were  crying  for  light.  But  some  of  the  theories  of  modern 
critics,  some  of  the  most  portentous  attacks  on  the  faith,  provoked  his 
sense  of  humour  more  than  his  alarm.  •'  The  devil  is  far  to  clever,"  he 
he  would  say,  "  not  to  be  intensely  amused  at  all  this.  What  frightful 
i'ools  those  men  mus^  seem  to  him  !  Can  you  not  imagine  how  Me- 
phisto,  when  he  is  alone,  must  chuckle  at  the  absurdities  of  which 
clever  men  can  be  guilty  ?" 

His  manner  of  treating  doubters  was  powerful  and  sympathetic. 
After  one  or  two  straight  cuts  of  common  sense  or  humour  had  sundered 
the  meshes  of  sophistical  argumentation,  he  would  carry  his  auditors 
away  from  doubtful  disputations,  into  the  wide  pure  heaven  of  his  own 
convictions  and  aspirations,  appeal  to  what  was  most  human  in  them, 
enlist  every  better  sympathy  on  his  side,  and  flash  light  into  the  mys- 
terious depths  of  conscience.  Many  a  mail  beset  by  difficulty  on 
"  questions  of  the  day,"  came  away  from  his  teaching,  not  perhaps  feel- 
ing every  doubt  removed,  but  under  the  sense  that  truths  had  been 
spoken  which  "  could  perish  never,"  and  that  convictions  had  been 
awakened  which  no  chatter  of  the  schools  could  destroy. 

His  frequent  lamentations  over  that  deficiency  in  pastoral  work, 
which  was  forced  on  him  in  later  years  by  the  pressure  of  public  duty, 
may  convey  a  false  impression  of  the  extent  to  which  this  held  true. 
It  was  certainly  impossible  for  him  to  visit  his  congregation  as  he  once 
did,  but  the  sick  and  distressed  were  never  forgotten  by  him ;  and 
those  who  knew  anything  of  his  ministry  at  such  times  bear  witness 
to  the  wonderful  tenderness  of  his  sympathy,  and  delight  to  tell  how 
his  eye.  would  swim  with  tears,  and  how  the  minutest  circumstance  of 
each  case  was  attentively  considered  by  him.     His  power,  indeed,  out 


352  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD 

of  the  pulpit  as  well  as  in  it,  lay  in  that  genuine  bigheartedness  which 
everywhere  claimed  and  inspired  confidence. 

"  I  write  as  one  who  knows,  whose  own  burden  has  been  made  easier  by 
him,  as  one  around  whom  his  arms  have  been,  and  on  whose  cheek  the  kiss 
of  his  deep  sympathy  has  fallen.  Few,  indeed,  who  knew  him  only  as  the 
genial  companion,  the  ready  platform  speaker,  or  the  powerful  preacher,  can, 
even  remotely,  conceive  of  the  way  he  bad  of  talking  to,  and  acting  upon, 
human  hearts,  when  alone  with  them.  It  was  then  that  the  glory  of  the 
man  came  out ;  then  you  knew  with  what  a  vision  he  saw  into  you  and 
comprehended  you ;  then  he  spoke  words  that  went  straight  into  jTour  soul, 
and  carried  healing  wilh  them,  for  he  never  kept  you  down  to  himself,  but 
took  you  up  with  himself  to  the  Father.  I  cannot  say  what  is  in  my  hearo 
to  say,  but  this  one  thing  I  would  like  all  who  have  never  been  alone  with 
him  when  spiritual  things  were  spoken  about,  to  believe  and  know,  that  he 
was  a  grander,  broader,  deeper,  diviner  man  than  he  could  ever  have  appear- 
ed to  you  to  be.  Nearly  thirteen  years  ago,  as  a  young  lad,  a  stranger  to 
this  country,  I  first  met  him,  and  from  that  hour  his  great  heart,  which 
always  warmed  to  the  stranger,  was  ever  ready  to  open,  and  his  kindly 
hand  to  help.  When  I  went  abroad  to  engage  in  the  work  which  lay  nearest 
to  his  own  heart,  it  was  with  no  formal  prayer  that  we  parted,  but  one  ever 
to  be  remembered ;  with  no  formal  farewell  of  a  formal  divine,  but  with  a 
loving  embrace  ;  and  when  I  returned,  most  unwillingly,  but  through  neces- 
sity, the  same  arms  were  ready  to  welcome  me.  This  is  not  the  way  un- 
known men  are  wont  to  be  dealt  with  by  known  men ;  young  men  by  old ; 
men  feebly  struggling,  or  baffled  and  beaten,  by  those  who  are  secure  on  the 
platform  of  life:  but  it  is  the  way  to  win  souls,  for  all  that,  and  it  was  the 
way  in  which  he  won  many."* 

"  His  power  of  sympathy,"  said  Dr.  Watson,  in  his  beautiful  funeral  ser- 
mon, "  was  the  first  and  last  thing  in  his  character  which  impi'essed  you. 
....  I  never  knew  a  man  bound  to  humanity  at  so  many  points ;  I  never 
knew  a  man  who  found  in  humanity  so  much  to  interest  him.  To  him  the 
most  commonplace  man  or  woman  yielded  up  some  contribution  of  individu- 
ality, and  you  were  tempted  to  wonder  which  of  all  the  various  moods 
through  which  he  passed,  was  the  one  most  congenial  to  him. 

"  'When  he  came  to  see  me,'  said  a  blacksmith,  'he  spoke  as  if  he  had 
been  a  smith  himself,  but  he  never  went  away  without  leaving  Christ  in  my 
heart !'  " 

To  his  eldest  Soy  when  he  was  a  very  young  boy  on  a  visit  to  Fiunary.     The  original  is 
carefully  written  in  large  Roman  letters  : — 

"Glasgow,  August  4,  1862. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  are  in  Morven,  and  so  happy  there.  I  never  was  so 
happy  in  all  my  life  as  I  used  to  be  when  I  was  a  boy  there.  I  think  of 
you  as  if  you  were  myself  young  again.  For  I  fished  with  Sandy  and  uncle 
John  for  cod  among  the  rocks  in  the  bay,  and  in  the  burn  for  trout,  and 
went  to  the  Byre  for  warm  milk,  just  as  you  are  doing.  But  then  all  the 
old  terriers  are  dead.  There  were  Cuilag  and  Gasgach — oh,  such  dogs  !  ^  If 
you  saw  them  worry  an  otter  or  a  wild  cat !     They  would  never  give  in. 

*  Letter  irom  the  Eev.  C.  M.  Grant. 


SOME  CIIA 11 A  C  T Ell  IS  Tl  <  'S 


ooo 


Ask  your  uncle  John  about  them,  and  ask  him  to  show  you  the  otter's  den 
at  Clachoran.  Oh,  Nommey,  be  happy!  for  when  you  are  old  like  me  you 
will^remember  Fiunary  aa  if  it  was  the  garden  of  Eden  without  the  serpent. 

"I  wish  you  could  remember,  as  I  can,  all  the  dear  friends  who  were 
once  there,  and  who  would  have  loved  you  as  they  loved  me — my  grand - 
papa,  with  his  white  hair  and  blind  eyes,  and  my  grandmamma,  so  kind  and 
loving l  and  aunts  Margaret,  Mary,  Grace,  Archy,  Jessy.  I  see  all  their 
faces  now  before  me.  They  were  all  so  good,  ^nd  loved  God  and  everybody. 
Dockie,  dear  !  thank  God  for  good  friends,  and  for  having  so  many  of  them. 

"  Did  they  show  you  where  I  lived  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  the  school  I 
used  to  be  in?" 

To  his  eldest  Daughter,  when  she  went  to  school  at  Brighton  : — 

"  Glasgow,  April  30,  1865. 

"  Do  you  remember  your  old  father1?  I'm  not  sure  if  you  do — old  Abel 
Feragus,  the  friend  of  Mrs.  Brown  ? 

"  So  you  were  very  sorry,  old  girl,  when  we  left  you  that  day?  You 
thought  you  would  not  care.     Hem  !  I  knew  better. 

"  And  so  the  poor  lassie  cried,  and  was  so  lonely  the  first  night,  and  would 
have  given  worlds  to  be  at  home  again  !  And  your  old  dad  was  not  a  bit 
sorry  to  leave  you,  not  he — cruel-hearted  man  that  he  is  !  Nor  was  your 
mother,  wretched  ol«A  woman  that  she  is  !  And  yet  'you  would  wonder'  how 
sorry  we  both  were,  and  how  often  the  old  man  said  'Poor  dear  lassie  !'  and 
the  old  wife  '  Poor  dear  darling?'  But  no  tear  filled  our  eye.  Are  you  sure 
of  that  ?  I'm  not.  And  the  old  father  said,  'I'm  not  afraid  of  my  girl. 
I'm  sure  she  will  prove  herself  good,  kind,  loving,  and  obedient,  and  won't 
be  lazy,  but  do  her  work  like  a  heroine,  and  remember  all  her  old  dad  told 
her  !'  and  her  mammy  said  the  same.  And  then  the  mammy  would  cry,  and 
het  old  dad  would  call  her  a  fool  (respectfully).  And  so  we  reached  London, 
and  then  we  got  your  letter,  which  made  us  very  happy ;  and  then  the  old 
man  said  '  Never  fear !  she  will  do  right  well,  and  will  be  very  happy,  and 

Miss will  like  her,  and  she  will  like  Miss !'  and  '  we  shall  soon 

meet  again  !'  chimed  in  the  mammy.  'If  it  be  God's  will,  we  shall  !'  said 
the  dad,  '  and  won't  we  be  happy  !' 

"  God  bless  you,  my  darling  !  May  you  love  your  own  Father  in  heaven 
far  more  than  you  love  your  own  father  on  earth,  and  I  know  how  truly 
you  love  me,  and  you  know  how  truly  I  love  you ;  but  He  loves  you  inlin- 
itely  more  than  I  can  possibly  do,  though  I  give  you  my  whole  heart. 

"  Will  you  write  a  line  to  the  old  man  !  And  remember  he  won't  criti- 
cise it,  but  be  glad  to  hear  all  your  chatter." 

To  the  3"AME  :— 

"  It  is  now,  I  think,  thirteen  years,  my  dearest ,  since  your  old  dad 

and  your  mother  first  saw  with  joy  and  gratitude  your  chubby  face,  and 
received  you,  their  first-born,  as  a  gift  from  God.  It  was  indeed  a  solemn 
day  to  your  parents  to  have  had  an  immortal  being  given  to  them,  whom 
they  could  call  their  own  child ;  and  it  was  a  solemn  day,  though  you  knew 
it  not,  for  you,  dearest,  when  you  began  a  life  wdiich  would  never  end. 
You  have  been  a  source  of  great  happiness  to  us  ever  since ;  and  you  cannot 

23 


354  LIFE   OF  X  OEM  AN  MACLEOD. 

yet  understand  the  longings,  the  earnest  prayers  offered  up  by  us  both  that 
you  may,  by  the  grace  of  God,  make  your  life  a  source  of  joy  and  blessing 
to  yourself,  and  be  a  joy  to  Jesus  Christ,  to  whom  you  belong,  who  has 
redeemed  you  to  God  with  His  own  blood,  and  who  loves  you  inconceivably 
more  than  your  own  loving  parents  do.  I  hope,  dearest,  you  will  thank  God 
for  all  His  kindness  to  you — do  speak  your  heart  out  to  Him.  He  likes 
you  to  do  it,  and  I  am  sure  you  do  feel  grateful  for  your  many  mercies. 

"  Oh,  my  own  darling  !  you  little  know  how  your  mother  and  I  desire 
and  pray  for  this,  as  the  one  thing  to  obtain  which  we  could  suffer  and  die, 
that  you  may  love  and  obey  Jesus  Christ;  that  you  may  know  Him  and 
speak  to  Him,  trust  Him,  obey  Him,  as  your  Friend,  Brother,  Saviour,  who 
dearly  loves  you,  and  desires  you  dearly  to  love  Him  in  return.  There  is  no 
blessing  God  could  give  me  in  this  world  to  be  compared  for  one  moment  to 
that  of  seeing  my  children,  who  are  dearer  to  me  than  life  itself,  proving 
themselves  to  be  children  of  God.  Let  me  have  this  joy  in  you  first,  as  my 
first-born  !  God  will  give  the  unspeakable  blessing  if  you  pray  to  Him,  and 
speak  to  Him  about  it,  simply,  frankly,  as  you  would  speak  to  me — but 
even  more  confidingly  than  you  could  even  to  me.  In  the  meantime,  dearie, 
thank  Him  for  all  He  has  done  for  you  and  given  to  you.  I  am  sure  I 
thank  Him  for  His  gift  of  yourself  to  us  both. 

"  I  dare  say  you  have  sometimes  home-sickness.  Eh?  But  you  cannot 
suffer  from  this  youthful  disease  as  much  as  I  did  when  I  went  first  from 
home.  So  you  need  not  wonder — at  least  I  do  not — if  you  should  some- 
times think  yourself  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe,  and  get  into  sad  fits,  and 
weary  longings,  and  think  everything  at  home  most  beautiful  !  But  this  is 
just  a  part  of  our  education,  and  a  training  for  life,  and  must  be  made  the 
most  of. 

"  Now  write  to  your  clad,  anyway  you  like.    I  won't  criticise.    Miss 

won't  look  at  your  letter,  as  I  wish  you  to  write  freely  to  me.  She  kindly 
agreed  to  this.  All  our  correspondence  maybe  quite  secret,  Miss  Macleod  ! 
Now,  my  lassie,  cheer  up  !  Be  jolly  !  "Work  like  a  brick,  and  enjoy  your- 
self like  a  linnet.    1  am  sure  you  will  come  on  famously — '  Never  say  die !' ' 

To  the  Same  :— 

"Balmoral,  Jam  12,  18C5. 

"  I  want  to  send  you  a  loving  word  from  this,  to  prove  to  you  how  your 
old  dad  remembers  you. 

"  I  came  here  Saturday,  and  preached  yesterday,  and  you  may  be  sure 
the  Queen  is  very  good  and  kind,  when  she  is  so  kind  to  your  old  dad.  But 
he  loves  her  very  much,  and  is  proud  to  serve  her. 

"  I  am  always  glad  to  hear  from  you,  dearest,  and  I  hope  you  seriously 
and  prayerfully  try  to  do  all  I  told  you  in  my  long  letter.  I  would  sooner 
see  you  sick  and  poor  with  the  love  of  Christ,  than  the  queen  of  the  whole 
world,  for  ever  and  ever,  without  it." 

"  Siiandon,  April  18,  1SGG. 

"  Your  dad  has  come  here  for  rest — that  is,  to  reply  to  a  ton  of  letters  ; 
among  others,  to  yours  of  March  3.  Oh,  I  wish  you  were  here  to  enjoy  the 
delicious  air  !  No  !  for  you  have  got  better  at  Brighton.  To  see  your 
mammy  ]     No  !  for  you  prefer  Miss to  all  your  family.    To  be  clasped 


SOME   C!L  I IL !  i  'TERISTICS.  Zoo 

to  the  bwsznm  of  your  old  dad?  No!  you  are  too  refined  for  that.  But  to 
get  your  dad  his  slippers,  for  his  unfeeling  family  left  them  behind  in 
Glasgow  ! 

"  This  day  is  lovely — the  sea  is  calm,  and  the  gulls  are  floating  about 
without  coughs  or  colds.  No  flannels  on  their  throats,  no  nightcaps  on 
their  heads,  or  warm  stockings  on  their  feet.  No  gruel  or  warm  bath  be- 
fore going  to  bed.  No  ' Gregory  '  in  the  morning.  The  birds  are  singing 
most  correctly,  and  never  were  in  a  boarding-school.  The  old  hills  are  as 
strong  as  ever,  and  if  they  are  not  Macleod's  they  Make  Clouds.  Yester- 
day lots  of  rain  fell  on  them,  and  they  had  no  umbrellas.  But  though 
their  noses  ran  with  water  for  a  while,  they  are  all  dry  now,  and  no  sneez- 
ing. The  winds  are  kissing  the  sea,  and  the  sea  only  laughs.  Naughty 
sea  and  winds  !  No  wonder  the  good  steamer  is  indignant,  and  blows  smoke 
at  the  wind,  and  whips  the  sea  with  its  paddles  till  it  foams  with  rage. 
The  lambs  are  playing  about  like  little  idle  fools,  never  thinking  of  the 
coming  days  of  mint  sauce  or  roast  mutton.  They  think  that  the  world 
was  made  to  enable  them  to  suck  their  mothers  and  wag  their  tails.  They 
don't  believe  in  butchers,  nor  do  their  mothers.  The  quiet  is  great,  but 
for  Willy.  His  song  is  louder  than  the  birds.'  He  flies  like  the  wind, 
kisses  his  mother  like  the  lambs,  is  as  hearty  as  the  gulls,  and  patronises 
the  cruel  butcher." 

To  the  Same  :— 

"Ems,  May  7,  1871. 

"  My  dearest  old  girl,  I  send  my  parental  blessing  to  you  on  your  birth- 
day.    That  was  a  joyous  day  to  your  father  and  mother,  and  every  return 

makes  vis  more  and  more  thankful  for  you,  and .     But  I  won't  praise 

you, — what  1  but  I  will  say  that .     No,  I  won't !     One  thing  is  certain. 

What  1  Guess  !     Well,  then,  of  all  the  girls  I  ever  knew,  you  are  one  that 

— what  1   It  is  for  you  to  say.     This  only  I  will  say,  that .    But  there's 

no  use  !     You  know  what,  my  darling  !     So  kiss  your  father.     As  for , 

poor  body,  the  less  said  about  her  the  better !  But  this  I  will  say,  she 
never  snores — never  !  and  she  also — yes  of  course — loves  the  children,  but 
not — who  V 


CHAPTER    XX. 

IK  MA. 

DR.  MACLEOD  had  for  several  years  been  convinced  that  the 
Church  ought  to  send  a  deputation  to  India.  There  were  many 
important  questions  connected  with  missions  in  that  country,  which, 
he  believed,  could  be  decided  only  by  Commissioners,  who,  besides 
considering  matters  affecting  particular  localities,  might  take  a  wide 
survey  of  the  condition  of  India  in  reference  to  Christianity.  He  had 
long  anticipated,  too,  the  possibility  of  being  himself  appointed  to  such 
a  duty,  and  was  prepared,  at  almost  any  personal  risk,  to  undertake  it. 
"  I  have  the  most  distinct  recollection,"  writes  Dr.  Clerk,  "  that  in  the 
summer  of  1865,  speaking  to  me,  as  he  often  did,  of  the  possibility  of 
his  being  asked  to  go  to  India,  he  told  me  that  medical  friends,  to 
whom  he  had  casually  mentioned  the  matter,  had  assured  him  it  would 
entail  certain  death,  but  that  he  had  counted  the  cost,  and  that  if  the 
Church  asked  him  to  represent  her.,  he  would  rather  die  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  duty  than  live  in  the  neglect  of  it.  I  am  convinced  that, 
in  the  true  martyr  spirit,  he  gave  his  life  for  the  conversion  of  India, 
and  that  the  fruit  will  appear  in  due  season.  He  ardently  anticipated 
glorious  results  from  a  Christianised  India — a  youthful  Church  with 
the  warmth  of  the  Eastern  heart  and  the  quickness  of  the  Eastern 
mind,  drawing  its  inspiration,  not  from  the  stereotyped  forms  of  the 
West,  but  directly  from  the  Fountain  of  Eternal  Life  and  Truth. 
Often  did  he  in  the  most  glowing  language  picture  the  effect  upon 
Europe  and  America,  should  light  again  stream  from  the  East  to 
quicken  their  decaying  energies." 

He  wras,  therefore,  not  taken  by  surprise  when  the  General  Assem- 
bly of  1867,  acting  on  the  unanimous  request  of  the  Mission  Board  at 
Calcutta,  appoiuted  him,  along  with  Dr.  "Watson  of  Dundee,  to  repre- 
sent the  Church  of  Scotland  in  India. 

Before  he  left  this  country  he  carefully  determined  the  chief  ques- 
tions to  which  his  attention  should  be  directed.  Ever  since  his 
enthusiasm  had  been  kindled  by  his  intercourse  at  Loudoun  with  the 
noble  widow  of  ex-Governor-General  Lord  Hastings,  he  had  taken  an 
almost  romantic  interest  in  the  policy  of  our  Eastern  empire  ;  was 
familiar  with  the  details  of  every  campaign  from  the  days  of  Clive  to 
the  Indian  mutinv ;  and  had  read  much  of  the  religious  as  well  as 
civil  history  of  the  natives.  He  had  also  for  year.s  taken  an  active 
part  in  the  management  of  India  Minions  ;  and  in  order  to  proHt  by 


INDIA.  ob7 

as  wide  a  range  of  experience  as  possible,  lie  corresponded  with 
persons  in  this  country  well  acquainted  with,  or  earnestly  interested 
in.  these  Missions,  and  obtained  from  tlieni  various,  and  therefore 
valuable,  statements  of  those  difficulties  and  objections  regarding  which 
inquiry  was  needed.  Prom  the  topics  suggested  by  these  and  similar 
authorities,  he  and  his  brother  deputy  drew  up,  during  their  outward 
voyage,  a  series  of  queries,  embracing  the  points  which  most  required 
investigation. 

They  had  also  peculiar  advantages,  when  in  India,  for  gaining  the 
best  answers  to  their  inquiries.  They  were  welcomed  as  friends  by 
the  representatives  and  agents  of  every  Church  and  Mission,  from  the 
bishops  of  the  Church  of  England  in  India  down  to  the  poorest  native 
catechist,  and  received  from  them  all  every  possible  aid  and  informa- 
tion. They  enjoyed  the  frankest  intercourse  with  educated  natives  of 
all  varieties  of  creed  and  of  no  creed,  and  with  the  conductors  of  the 
Press,  religious  and  secular,  Christian  and  Hindoo.  They  were 
honoured  likewise  with  the  confidence  of  the  highest  and  best  informed 
Officers  of  State,  in  each  of  the  Presidencies,  and  were  thus  able  to 
gauge  opinion  in  different  places  and  among  different  ranks  and  types 
of  men,  and  to  form  their  conclusions  from  unusually  comprehensive 
data.  "  We  had  in  our  investigations,"  he  reports,  "  advantages  similar 
to  those  possessed  by  a  Government  Commission,  which  cites  select 
witnesses  and  visits  select  districts,  and  the  value  of  whose  conclusions 
,is  not  to  be  estimated  by  the  time  spent  in  inquiry,  or  to  be  balanced 
against  those  arrived  at  by  '  the  oldest  inhabitant '  of  any  one  village." 

In  speaking  of  the  trouble  Dr.  Macleod  took  to  obtain  trustworthy 
information,  not  only  on  the  questions  bearing  directly  on  his  mission, 
but  in  regard  to  everything  which  came  under  his  notice,  and  the 
consequent  accuracy  of  the  conclusions  he  reached  (an  accuracy  which 
has  since  been  recognised  by  some  of  the  ablest  authorities  on  Indian 
affairs),  Dr.  AVatson  thus  describes  the  difficulties  which  had  to  be 
encountered  : — 

"  No  one  who  has  not  had  something  to  do  with  gathering  informa- 
tion can  imagine  the  difficulty  of  sifting  the  opinions  and  statements 
which  are  made  by  residents  in  India  on  its  internal  affairs.  If  you 
are  content  to  take  the  first  witness  you  find  as  an  authority,  and  to 
form  your  judgment  according  to  his  evidence,  you  vill  avoid  much 
perplexity;  but  you  will  run  the  risk  of  holding  mor;t  erroneous  and 
one-sided  views.  Dr.  Macleod  used  often  to  express  his  astonishment 
at  the  opposite  and  contradictory  declarations  made  to  him  by  persons 
who  seemed  to  have  had  the  best  opportunities  of  knowing  what  they 
spoke  about.  Two  men,  or  half-a-dozen  men,  who  ought  to  have  been 
each  in  his  own  line  a  guarantee  for  correctness,  would  on  some  point 
give  as  many  different  opinions,  formed  on  their  own  personal 
experience. 

"  Each  man  had  lived  in  a  little  world  of  his  own  ;  in  the  presence 
of  his  own  countrymen  he  had  been  a  stranger  to  all  except  his  own 


358  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

circle.  And,  indeed,  one  is  surprised  at  the  separateness  and  isolation 
of  European  society  in  the  great  centres  of  the  population ;  for,  if 
you  pass  from  one  little  circle  to  another,  it  is  like  crossing  into  a  new 
region  of  mental  life ;  and  the  instruments  for  gauging  facts,  opinions, 
experiences,  and  modes  of  thought  need  to  be  readjusted.  To  follow 
implicitly  the  traditions  and  convictions  of  your  informants  on  almost 
any  subject  of  wide  interest,  you  must  lay  aside  to-day  the  impressions 
you  took  up  yesterday ;  to-morrow  you  may  have  cause  to  return  to 
your  earlier  ones,  and  day  by  day  you  may  have  to  modify  now  one 
ami  now  another  of  your  notions,  proved  on  what  you  believed  good 
grounds ;  and  after  all  you  will  retain  your  latest  conviction  with 
caution  and  modesty. 

"  It  was  no  easy  matter,  then,  for  a  man  like  him,  who  wished  to 
probe  everything,  and  to  attain  to  the  truth,  to  ascertain  correct  data. 
At  times  he  grew  impatient,  and  at  other  times  he  used  to  look  on  the 
matter  on  its  ludicrous  side,  and  illustrate  it  by  a  story  his  father  had 
often  told,  of  an  incident  at  the  trial  of  some  case  at  which  he  was 
present.  The  witness  in  the  box  was  a  Highlandman  unable  to  speak 
a  word  of  English,  and  he  gave  his  evidence  through  an  interpreter. 
When  a  question  was  put  to  the  witness,  he  would  hesitate  and  say. 
1 1  think,  well,  I  daresay,  yes.'  Then  the  interpreter  turns  to  the 
judge  with  this  statement,  He  says,  'Yes,'  my  lord,  but  he  seems  not 
quite  sure.'  '  Ask  him  again,'  says  the  judge  ;  and  again  the  witness 
hesitated,  balanced  statements,  and  concluded  with  '  I  think,  well  I 
daresay,  no.'  Whereupon  the  interpreter  announced  the  reply,  and 
shouted,  '  he  says  '  No,'  my  lord,'  and  so  the  case  proceeded,  inter- 
rupted every  now  and  again  by  the  twofold  answer,  '  He  says,  '  Yes,' 
my  lord  ;  he  says,  '  jSTo,'  my  lord,'  until  the  judge  completely  lost  his 
temper. 

"  It  was  often  through  similar  difficulties  of  contradiction  from  the 
witness-box,  and  from  different  lips,  that  Dr.  McLeod  was  obliged  to 
draw  his  knowledge  of  what  were  the  facts  and  opinions  of  Indian 
life  :  and  he  seized  every  chance  of  correcting  his  impressions  by  put- 
ting the  right  questions  to  the  right  men,  and  by  a  sort  of  instinctive 
appreciation  of  the  value  of  the  replies  he  received  to  his  numerous 
and  sifting  inquiries." 

The  reception  accorded  to  the  deputation  was  enthusiastic,  and  their 
labours  were  constant  and  onerous.  Crowds,  in  which  natives  were 
mingled  with  English,  assembled  in  the  Churches  in  which  they  were 
to  preach,  or  at  the  meetings  they  were  to  address.  Every  day,  almost 
every  hour,  had  its  engagements  ;  examining  schools,  conferring  with 
missionaries,  and  responding  to  the  attentions  and  hospitalities  which 
were  bestowed  on  them.  To  the  Indian  habit  of  early  rising  there 
was  too  frequently  added  the  home  custom  of  late  sitting,  with  its 
consequent  exhaustion.  "  It  is  certainly  trying,"  he  writes,  "  for  a 
stranger,  who  is  entertained  hospitably  every  night,  and  who  conse- 
quently retires  late,  to  have  his  first  sleep  broken  by  the  card  of  some 


INDIA.  350 

distinguished  official  handed  to  him  ahout  daybreak."  Tin's  strain  upon 
his  system  told  more  perniciously  than  he  was  at  the  time  conscious 
of.  "It  was  vow  difficult,"  Dr.  Watson  say-,  "to  convince  him  that, 
for  a  man  like  him,  labour  in  Scotland,  with  its  cold  and  bracing  at- 
Biosphere,  was  one  thing,  and  labour  in  a  tropical  climate  was  another 
thing.  He  believed  it  on  the  whole;  but  unless  the  belief  was  im- 
pressed on  his  mind  by  physical  pain  or  inconvenience,  it  was  in- 
operative; and  he  was  apt  to  forget  that  he  was  in  a  region  where 
exertion  such  as  he  was  accustomed  to  at  home  would  entail  upon  him 
consequences  of  a  serious  kind.  The  only  instance  in  which  he  seemed 
t  i  distrust  the  climate  of  India  was  in  regard  to  his  mode  of  living. 
He  could  both  enjoy  life  and  forego  its  enjoyments,  as  few  men  could, 
without  a  sense  of  loss;  he  could  avail  himself  of  the  most  boundless 
hospitality,  and  he  could  at  the  most  sumptuous  table  fare  like  a  her- 
mit ;  and  when,  a  day  or  two  after  his  landing  in  Bombay,  he  was  told 
by  a  physician  that  everything  which  was  safe  for  him  at  home  was 
not  equally  safe  in  India,  he  was  perfectly  unaffected  by  the  news ; 
and,  so  far  as  meat  and  drink  were  concerned,  he  walked  strictly  by 
medical  rule.  In  all  other  respects  he  forgot  his  belief  in  the  dangers 
of  India :  he  spoke  in  public,  he  talked  in  private,  he  listened,  he 
exerted  body  and  brain  from  morning  till  night,  he  spent  himself  with- 
out grudging  and  without  consideration.  On  one  occasion  he  preached 
for  about  an  hour  while  sailing  down  the  Red  Sea,  and  at  the  close  of 
the  service  he  wras  almost  dead.  His  face  was  flushed,  his  head  ached, 
his  brain  was  confused;  and  when  he  retired  to  his  cabin  the  utmost 
efforts  were  required  to  restore  him.  The  warning  was  noted  by  him, 
and  often  remembered,  but  it  was  as  often  forgotten  or  neglected  after- 
wards. 

•  I  shall  not  attempt,"  Dr.  Watson  continues,  "  to  describe  the  inter- 
est which  was  felt  amongst  all  classes  in  India  in  the  speeches  and 
sermons  of  Dr.  Macleod.  The  visit  of  a  man  of  much  less  note  would 
have  attracted  some  attention,  and  would  have  brought  together  a  very 
large  proportion  of  the  English-speaking  population  in  every  city  which 
was  visited.  Moreover,  the  novelty  of  the  visit,  the  first  of  its  kind  from 
Scotland,  was  sufficient  to  awaken  the  sympathies  of  Christians,  and  to 
excite  the  curiosity,  if  not  a  deeper  feeling,  amongst  all  the  races  and 
religions  of  India.  His  name  had  gone  before  him  in  every  province. 
No  efforts  had  been  used  to  draw  the  notice  of  the  world  to  his  visit  ; 
the  ordinary  publication  of  a  list  of  passengers  by  the  next  steamer, 
confirming  a  rumour  that  Dr.  Macleod  was  on  his  way  to  India,  was 
of  itself  enough.  His  arrival  was  looked  forward  to  with  eagerness, 
and,  soon  after  his  landing,  invitations  and  enquiries  from  all  parts  of 
the  country  were  sent  in.  Wherever  he  went  he  was  received  with 
kindness  and  cordiality ;  in  many  places  with  that  deep  respect  and 
veneration  which  had  grown  up  in  the  minds  of  those  who  had  admired 
his  works  and  had,  heard  of  his  labours,  and  in  many  places  he  was 
welcomed  with  feelings  of  ardour  arising  to  enthusiasm. 


300  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  The  foremost  men  in  India  in  civil  and  military  and  ecclesiastical 
posts  were  ready  to  do  him  honour  and  to  aid  him  ;  in  public  and  in 
private  they  testified  for  him  their  personal  respect ;  and  when  they 
found  him  to  be  a  man  whose  eyes  were  observant,  whose  sympathies 
were  quick,  whose  large-heartedness  was  so  comprehensive  and  whose 
humour  was  so  genial  and  overpowering,  it  seemed  as  if  all  barriers 
were  broken  down,  and  as  if  they  had  known  him  personally  all  their 
lives.  He  gained  access  to  persons  and  sources  of  information  which, 
without  any  wish  to  disoblige,  would  have  been  shut  to  most  other 
men. 

"  Nothing  indeed  was  lacking  in  the  welcome  which  greeted  him ; 
and  never  did  visitor  appreciate  kindness  more.  But  withal  he  was 
not  misled  by  these  marks  of  flattery  and  good-feeling.  He  could  dis- 
tinguish between  the  genuine  and  the  unreal :  he  knew  well  enough 
that  whilst  there  were  many  who  testified  their  zeal  and  good-will, 
many  more  had  the  future  in  view,  and  were  careful  to  propitiate  an 
author  who  was  likely  to  command  as  wide  a  circle  of  readers  as  any 
writer  in  Great  Britain.  And,  apart  from  this,  he  had  set  his  heart  on 
the  special  object  which  carried  him  to  India  ;  and  all  external  atten- 
tions, all  readiness  to  listen,  all  offers  of  hospitality  or  public  respect, 
were  regarded  by  him  as  helps  to  his  work,  and  as  opening  up  for  him 
a  surer  path  to  that  knowledge  of  Indian  life  and  Indian  affairs  ol 
which  he  was  in  search." 


From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Cuilchenna,  July  24,  1867. 

"  Dear  place,  with  what  genuine  love  and  gratitude  I  write  its  name  !  I 
thought  I  was  too  old  to  love  nature  as  I  have  done.  What  a  time  I  have 
had,  what  glorious  scenery,  what  fresh  mornings,  and,  oh,  what  evenings  ! 
With  smooth  seas  gleaming  with  the  hues  of  a  dove's  neck ;  mountains 
with  every  shade  which  can  at  such  times  be  produced ;  Glencoe  in  sun- 
shine and  in  deepest  crimson ;  Glengoar,  with  its  sunbeams  lighting  up  the 
hill  sides  with  the  softest  dreamy  velvet  hues  ;  mountain  masses  of  one  dark 
hue  clearly  defined  against  the  blue  sky,  and  fading  into  grey  over  Duart. 
What  cloud  shadows,  and  what  effects  from  pines,  and  cottages  with  grey 
smoke  and  lines  of  silver  along  the  shore,  and  the  masts  of  ships  at  anchor  ! 
Praise  God  for  this  glorious  world  !  the  world  made  and  adorned  by  Him 
who  died  on  the  cross.  What  a  gospel  of  peace  and  good-will  it  ever  is  to 
me — not  a  prison  but  a  palace — hung  with  pictures  of  glory,  full  of  works 
of  art,  and  all  so  pure  and  holy.  Every  bunch  of  green  fern,  every  bit  of 
burning  heather,  the  birches,  the  pure  streams,  the  everything,  says,  '  I  love 
you — love  me — and  rejoice  !'  Sometimes  I  wept,  and  sometimes  prayed,  and 
enjoyed  silent  praise — I  bless  Thee  for  it ! 

"And  then  there  was  my  dear  family  all  together,  and  all  so  well,  and 
the  walks,  the  pic-nics  to  the  hills,  Glencoe,  Glengoar,  the  fishing  in  the 
evening — all  sunshine — all  happiness — most  wonderful  for  so  many  and  all 
sinners,  in  this  world  of  sin  and  discipline.  It  is  of  Cod  our  Father,  and 
a  type  of  what  will  be  forever. 


INDIA.  3U1 

"Forbid  that  tins  should  hinder  us  and  not  rather  help  us  to  do  our 
,lu(y,  severe  duty,  and  to  accept  any  trial.  I  feel  this  is  a  calm  harbour  in 
which  I  am  refitting  for  a  long  voyage." 

To  J.  M.  Ludlow,  Esq. :—  "August,  18G7. 

"  Yes,  I  go  on  the  5th  of  November  on  a  great  mission  to  India,  not 
verily  to  Presbyterians  only,  but  to  see  what  the  eye  alone  can  see,  and  to 
verify  or  test  what  cannot  be  seen,  but  which  I  either  question  or  believe 
anent  missions  in  general  and  education. 

"  I  have  been  in  paradise  with  my  family.  The  heavenly  district  is 
called  in  maps  of  earth,  Lochaber.  But  what  map  could  give  all  the  glory 
in  the  world  without,  and  the  world  within  1 

"  It  has  been  a  blessed  preparation  for  labour  night  and  day.  I  had  a 
mission  sermon  of  good-will  to  man." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod: — 

"  Balmoral,  Friday,  September  10th,  13G7. 

"It  was  a  glorious  day;  but  rather  a  weary  journey  from  Glasgow  yes- 
terday. 

"This  morning's  telegram  announced  the  death  of  Sir  Frederick  Bruce 
suddenly  at  Boston.  Lady  Frances  Baillie,  his  sister,  is  here.  I  have  been 
with  her  and  prayed  with  her.  She  accompanies  me  to  Perth  to-morrow. 
I  feel  very  truly  for  her.  Three  such  brothers,  Lord  Elgin,  General  Bruce, 
and  Sir  Frederick  dying  so  suddenly  !      Mystery  ! 

"  I  had  a  long  and  pleasant  interview  with  the  Queen.  With  my  last 
,  breath  I  will  uphold  the  excellence  and  nobleness  of  her  character.  It  was 
really  grand  to  hear  her  talk  on  moral  courage,  and  on  living  for  duty." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"August  11,  Glasgow. — I  have  long  been  convinced  of  the  vast  impor- 
tance of  sending  a  deputation  to  India,  and  my  friends  in  the  Committee 
know  it.  I  never  brought  it  formally  before  the  Committee  from  an  awk- 
ward, silly  feeling  of  fear  lest  they  should  suppose  it  was  a  mere  personal 
affair.  I  had,  however,  I  believed,  mentioned  to  friends  in  private  that  so 
convinced  was  I  of  its  importance,  that  I  was  disposed  to  hazard  the  offer 
of  my  going  at  my  own  expense. 

"  How  often  did  I  ponder  over  India  !  It  possessed  me,  but  I  held  my- 
self in.  I  determined  not  to  lead  but  to  follow.  The  Lord  knows  how 
often  I  asked  His  counsel. 

"  When  the  Sunday  question  came  up,  I  gave  \vp  all  thoughts  of  India. 
I  felt  then  that  I  was  tabooed.  I  would,  indeed,  have  resigned  the  Con- 
venership,  except  from  the  determination  not  to  confess  any  sense  of  wrong- 
doing which  I  did  not  feel.  I  learned  but  the  other  day  that  a  meeting 
Avas  called  at  the  time  to  get  me  to  resign ;  the  vote  was  taken  and  carried 
against  them.  I  thank  God  for  the  noble  freedom  of  the  Church,  which 
could  not  only  entertain  the  thought  of  sending  me,  but  act  upon  it  as  they 
have  done. 

"  After  my  report  for  the  last  Assembly  was  finished,  a  letter  came  from 
Calcutta,  from  our  Corresponding  Board,  requesting  the  Convener  to  visit 
India. 


362  LIFE  OF  NO  EM  AN  MACLEOD. 

"  T  called  a  meeting  in  Edinburgh  of  a  few  friends  in  the  Committee, 
best  fitted  to  advise  me.  They  told  me  I  must  lay  an  official  document  be- 
fore the  Committee.  The  meeting  was  called  by  the  Moderator  of  Assem- 
bly, and  I  was  absent.  All  I  said  was  that  this  Assembly  should  decide 
one  way  or  other,  if  I,  a  man  fifty-six  years  of  age,  was  even  to  consider 
the  proposal.  I  telegraphed  next  day  to  Dr.  Craik  to  print  their  deliver- 
ance, whatever  it  was,  so  that  the  Assembly  might  have  it  before  them  in 
a  tangible  form.  It  wa~.  printed  accordingly,  and  I  simply  read  it,  excusing 
the  fact  of  its  not  baing  in  the  report,  from  the  request  having  come  so  late, 
and  in  this  form  taking  me  aback.  The  Assembly  discussed  the  question, 
and  were,  strange  to  siuy,  unanimous  in  granting  the  request,  if  the  Presby- 
tery of  Glasgow  agreed  thereto,  and  if  Funds  were  raised  independent  of 
the  subscriptions  for  the  Mission.  Mr.  Johnstone,  of  Greenock,  nobly  of- 
fered to  guarantee  £1,000  if  I  went,  and  so  this  barrier  was  removed  ! 

"  My  physicians  said  Yes. 

"  My  wife  said  Yes,  if  God  so  wills.  My  aged  and  blessed  mother  said 
Yes. 

"  My  congregation?  Well,  I  wrote  clear  James  Campbell,  my  wise,  cau- 
tious, loving,  and  dear  friend  and  elder,  and  he  read  to  my  Session  a  letter 
written  from  Cuilchenna,  which  told  the  whole  truth,  and  the  Session  said 
Yes.  Could  I  say  No  1  Could  I  believe  in  God,  as  a  guide,  and  say  No  % 
It  was  difficult  to  say  Yes.  The  wife  and  bairns  made  it  difficult ;  but  was 
I  to  be  a  coward,  and  every  officer  in  the  army  to  rebuke  me  1  No  !  I 
said  Yes,  with  a  good  concience,  a  firm  heart,  after  much  prayer,  and  I 
dared  not  say  No. 

"  No  doubt  all  my  personal  feelings,  the  Mission  question  excepted,  would 
keep  me  at  home.  I  have  seen  so  much  of  the  world  that  I  would  not  go 
to  India  for  the  mere  purpose  of  visiting  it  as  a  traveller,  should  I  see  it  in 
a  month  for  nothing  from  the  Himalayas  to  Cape  Comorin.  I  would  not 
give  a  week  in  Rome,  which  I  have  never  seen,  for  any  time  in  India,  were 
it  close  at  hand. 

"  Apart  from  Missions,  nothing  could  possibly  induce  me  to  run  risks, 
encounter  fatigue,  and  make  such  sacrifices  in  my  fifty- sixth  year. 

"  I  cannot  as  Convener  lay  my  hand  on  any  one  authentic  and  reliable 
book  or  report,  enabling  me  to  get  a  clear,  firm,  unhesitating  grasp  of  the 
real  state,  difficulties,  and  requirements  of  our  Missions. 

"  We  are  at  this  moment  passing  through  a  crisis  in  oxir  Mission  history 
both  in  India  and  at  home.  There  are  questions  of  increased  salaries,  ac- 
cording to  the  circumstances  of  each  Mission  station  ;  the  employment  of 
home  native  teachers ;  the  employment — its  nature,  place,  pay,  &c,  of  native 
ministers,  with  their  future  relationship  to  the  Board,  the  local  Presbytery, 
and  the  Committee ;  the  formation  of  Corresponding  Boards,  and  the  clear- 
ing up  of  constantly  recurring  misunderstandings  with  them  ;  the  personal 
examination  into  the  actual  condition  of  each  Mission  station,  and  the  en- 
couraging of  the  missionaries ;  the  obtaining  accurate  information  through 
letters  from  the  Home  Government  to  the  Indian  Government,  and  from 
every  leading  Missionary  Society  labouring  in  India,  that  so,  by  confidential 
communications  with  representative  men  of  all  parties  and  creeds,  we  may 
estimate  the  actual  state  and  prospects  of  Missions  in  India.  Such  is  a 
faint  outline  of  some  of  the  objects  of  a  deputation  as  far  as  India  is  con- 
cerned. 


INDIA.  363 

"As  to  the  danger,  it  is  nothing,  for  Goil  is  everywhere.  As  to  family, 
He  can  take  care  of  them;  so  can  he  of  the  dear  congregation.  But  it 
seems  to  me, — and  surely  my  Father  will  not  tat  me  be  in  darkness  !— to 
be  my  duty,  and  so  I  go,  in  the  name  of  God — Father,  Son  and  Spirit. 

"August  20. — Dear  Watson  goes  with  me.     Thank  God  the  way  is  clear. 

"The  one  grand  difficulty  is  the  fact  that  I  have  not,  since  the  Sabbath 
controversy,  been  much  of  a  pastor.  God  knows  I  have  not  bi  en  spending 
my  time  selfishly.  Every  hour  has  been  occupied  for  the  public — that  is, 
my  small  public — good.  There  has  been  no  idleness.  But  I  have  not  been 
able  amidst  my  work  to  visit,  and  though  I  condemn  myself  by  the  confes- 
sion, yet  I  will  make  it,  that  a  chief,  yea,  the  chief  ground  of  ministerial 
usefulness,  is  the  personal  attachment  of  the  people,  and  this  is  gained  most 
by  personal  visitation.  It  is  a  righteous  ground.  I  am  amazed  at  their 
patience  and  attachment  to  me  !  My  only  consolation  is  my  heartfelt  at- 
tachment to  them — if  they  only  knew  how  great  it  is  ! 

"  Come  life  or  death,  I  believe  it  is  God's  will.  I  ask  no  more.  All 
results  are  known  to  Him.  Enough  if  He  in  mercy  reveals  His  will.  To 
suspect  myself  deceived  would  be  to  shatter  all  my  faith  in  God.  Again  I 
say  I  know  not  in  what  form  He  is  to  be  glorified  in  or  by  us.  All  I  know 
is,  that  I  solemnly  believe  God  says,  '  It  is  my  will  that  you  go.' 

"  But  when  I  think  of  probabilities,  I  would  be  overwhelmed  unless  I 
knew  that  I  was  not  to  be  over-anxious  about  the  morrow,  or  about  any- 
thing, but  to  rest  on  God  for  each  day's  guidance,  strength  and  blessing. 
The  many  I  shall  meet,  the  importance  of  all  that  is  said  or  done,  the 
responsibility  of  personal  influence,  emanating  from  personal  being;  the 
sermons  and  addresses ;  the  questions  to  be  asked,  and  the  judging  of  the 
replies  to  them;  the  patience,  truth,  and  perseverance,  judgment  and  tem- 
per needed ;  the  redeeming,  in  short,  of  this  magnificent  talent  when  abused. 
How  solemn  the  thought  !  And  then  the  right  use  of  it  when  I  return — 
the  labour  and  wisdom  this  implies — the  results  which  depend  on  its  use! 
How  affecting  !  And  I  getting  so  old — little  time  left — and  having  so 
many  difficulties  from  within  and  without  !  But  the  good  Master  knows 
all — and  He  is  so  good,  so  patient,  so  considerate,  forbearing,  strengthening, 
over-ruling !     Amen. 

"  I  have  no  legacy  to  leave  in  the  form  of  wishes.  I  leave  God  to  arrange 
all.  For  my  family  I  have  but  one  wish,  that  these  dear  ones — each  a  part 
of  my  being — should  know  God,  and  be  delivered  from  evil.  Bich  or  poor, 
well  or  ill,  my  one  cry  to  God  is,  '  May  they  be  Thine  through  faith  in 
Jesus,  and  obedience  to  Thy  holy  commandments.' 

"And  God  will  provide  for  my  dear  people.  Oh,  how  good  they  have 
been  to  me  !" 

To  James  A.   Campbell,  Esq. 

"  I  think  Young's  view  of  sacrifice  superficial  in  the  extreme,  and  that  in 
his  desire  to  give  prominence  to  personal  righteousness  as  the  grand  end  of 
Christ's  work,  in  which  I  cordially  sympathize,  he  leaves  really  no  room  for 
pardon  as  an  act  of  mercy.  But  as  I  have  not  his  work  on  the  subject  with 
me,  and  no  space  for  writing,  I  won't  indulge  in  criticism.  The  best  book 
out  of  sight,  I  think,  on  this  great  question  is  Campbell's,  my  very  dear 
friend.  It  has  defects  when  brought  to  the  severe  test  of  exegesis,  but  it 
is  the  best  nevertheless. 


JG4  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  1  quite  agree  with  Mr.  that  it  ought  to  be  the  aim  of  the  legisla- 
tion of  every  Church  to  make  its  dogmatic  basis  square  more  and  more  with 
the  creed  of  the  Church  Catholic.  A  Church  is  catholic  only  when  it  is 
capable,  as  far  as  its  creed  is  concerned,  of  embracing  living  Christendom, 
so  that  a  member  or  minister  righteously  deposed  from  its  communion  should 
thereby  he  deposed  as  righteously  from  the  whole  Catholic  Church. 

"  I  think  the  Popish  Church  eminently  sectarian,  and  the  most  remark- 
able union,  or  rather  disunion  of  'Catholics'  I  have  ever  seen  was  in  the 
Holy  Sepulchre,  around  the  symbol  of  the  grand  fact  which  should  unite 
all — Jesus  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life. 

"As  to  the  question  of  the  Sabbath,  it  never  did  nor  could  excite  my 
enthusiasm.  It  is  an  outside  question,  interesting  theologically  as  involving 
the  higher  question  of  the  relation  between  the  old  and  new  dispensations, 
Judaism  and  Christianity.  Practically,  we  are  all  one  in  wishing  and  bless- 
ing God  for  a  day  for  social  worship ;  and  for  enjoying,  in  its  rest  from  ser- 
vile labour,  a  blessed  opportunity  for  deepening  our  spiritual  rest  with  Christ 
in  God.  I  protested  against  the  base  superstition  attached  to  it,  which  in 
the  long  run  would,  as  education  and  independent  thought  advanced,  but 
weaken  its  basis  and  turn  against  it  those  who  wished  most  to  preserve  it. 
I  also  protested,  at  the  risk  of  my  life,  for  more  elbow-room  for  the  clergy  ! 

"  How  strange  and  sudden  has  been  the  revolution,  that  I,  who  two  years 
ago  was  threatened  with  deposition,  and  was  made  an  off-scouring  by  so 
many,  am  this  year  asked  by  the  Assembly  to  be  their  representative  in 
India  !     God's  ways  are  verily  not  our  ways  !" 

From  Professor  Max  Muller: — 

"I  hope  your  visit  to  India  will  give  a  new  impetus  to  the  missionary 
work  in  India,  by  showing  how  much  more  has  really  been  achieved  than  is 
commonly  supposed.  One  cannot  measure  the  success  of  a  missionary  by 
the  number  of  converts  he  has  made,  and  it  does  not  seem  to  me  likely  that 
Christianity  will,  for  some  time  to  come,  spread  in  India  chiefly  by  means 
of  direct  conversions.  Its  influence,  however,  is  felt  everywhere,  and  even 
the  formation  of  new  religious  societies  apparently  hostile  to  Christianity, 
like  to  the  Brahma  Somaj,  is  due  indirectly  to  the  preaching  and  teaching 
of  Christian  missionaries.  Prom  what  I  know  of  the  Hindoos  they  seem  to 
me  riper  for  Christianity  than  any  nation  that  ever  accepted  the  gospel.  It 
does  not  follow  that  the  Christianity  of  India  will  be  the  Christianity  of 
England;  but  that  the  new  religion  of  India  will  embrace  all  the  essential 
elements  of  Christianity  I  have  no  doubt,  and  that  is  surely  something 
worth  fighting  for.  If  people  had  only  to  go  to  India  and  preach,  and  make 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  converts,  why,  who  would  not  be  a  missionary 
then?" 

From  Sir  Arthur  Helps:— 

"  Council  Office,  October  3,  18C7. 

"What  on  earth  takes  you  to  India1?  I  do  not  think  I  ever  flattered  any 
man  in  my  life,  but  I  do  say  of  you,  that  you  are  the  greatest  and  most  con- 
vincing preacher  I  ever  heard Now,  are  we  not  wicked  enough  here  ? 

Is  there  not  enough  work  for  you  to  do  here,  but  that  you  must  go  away 
from  us  to  India?  for  it  appears  that  you  are  going  to  that  hot  place,  if  I 
make  out  your  bad  handwriting  rightly. 


INDIA.  3Gb 

"I  am  really,  without  any  nonsense,  unhappy  at  your  going.  But  surely 
you  are  coming  back  soon." 

From  his  Journal: — 

"October  27,  Sunday. — The  last  Sunday  before  I  sail  has  come,  and  it  is 
almost  the  ending  of  the  most  joyous  and  most  blessed  time  I  have  had  in 
all  my  life. 

"The  work  during  these  two  months  has  been  heavy.  I  have  attended 
eleven  meetings  of  some  importance,  and  preached  eight  sermons  for  other 
congregations  than  my  own ;  have  had  eleven  district  meetings  of  my  people, 
at  each  of  which  I  have  given  a  long  lecture  on  India ;  had  the  happiness 
of  shaking  hands  with  those  who  attended;  have  taught  a  communicants' 
class  for  five  nights;  have  examined  each  of  forty  communicants;  have 
given  the  communion  at  Mission  Church,  Barony,  and  Parkhead;  have  had 
sixty  baptisms  or  so;  have  been  at  Balmoral;  preached  at  Dundee;  visited 
friends  in  Fife,  Edinburgh,  Helensburgh,  and  Shandon;  have  had  two  pub- 
lic dinners  given  me;  have  visited  with  my  wife  sixty  families,  and  at  least 
twenty  others  by  myself;  had  Indian  Mission  and  other  meetings;  and  had  a 
delightful  lunch  in  my  own  house  of  thirty  of  my  "dear  brethren;  have  finished 
my  sketch  of  my  father's  life  ;  written  a  month  for  'Home  Preacher'  (four 
sermons,  and  very  many  prayers),  besides  collects  and  prayers,  which  have 
finished  the  whole;  have  written  '  Billy  Buttons ;'  have  written  '  A  Pas- 
toral,' and  circular  for  India  Mission  ;  have  this  week  got  two  licentiates 
for  the  Mission  Church,  &c,  &c. 

"In  short,  every  day  till  two,  sometimes  three,  sometimes  four  a.m.,  has 
been  so  fully  occupied  that  I  hardly  know  how  I  have  a  brain  at  all,  for  the 
above  is  but  an  outline  of  work — innumerable  interstices  have  to  be  filled 
up. 

"  But  what  a  time  of  joy  and  thanksgiving  it  has  been.  Take  this  last 
week  as  a  specimen. 

"  Thursday  the  Presbytery  of  Glasgow  gave  me  a  dinner,  with  Dr. 
Jamieson*  in  the  chair.  He  spoke  like  a  Christian  and  a  gentleman,  and 
the  whole  thing  was  dignified,  Christian,  catholic,  and  good. 

"  Tuesday,  the  soiree  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  workers  in  the  congregation. 

'•  Wednesday  a  dinner  given  me  by  about  fifty  friends — such  friends — 
with  my  good  and  true  friend  Walter  Smith  representing  the  Free  Kirk  ; 
the  Bishop  of  Argyle,  a  truly  free  man,  gentleman,  and  Christian,  represent- 
ing the  Episcopal  Church.  Dr.  Bobson  represented  the  U.  P.  Church  ; 
beloved  John  Macleod  Campbelr  (the  first  public  dinner  he  ever  was  at !) 
representing  no  Church.     There  was  a  troop  of  dear  friends  around  me. 

"  Thursday  was  the  Fast ;  and  a  prayer-meeting  was  held  in  the  evening 
by  the  Presbytery  as  a  Presbytery,  that  crammed  the  Barony  ;  Dr.  Jamie- 
son  giving  an  admirable  address,  and  my  friends  Dr.  Craik  and  Dr.  Charteris 
led  the  devotions.  What  a  glorious  sight  of  godliness  and  brotherly  love  ! 
How  truly  I  thank  God  for  this  for  the  sake  of  the  Presbytery  and  Church 
as  well  as  for  my  own  sake  personally,  and  as  one  of  a  deputation  to  India. 

"  On  Friday,  the  presentation  of  portraits  of  myself,   my  wife,  and  my 

*  Dr.  Jamieson  had  led  the  debate  on  the  Sabbath  question  in  opposition  to  the 
views  of  Dr.  Macleod. 


,366  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD 

mother,  painted  by  Macnee,  and  a  marble  bust  given  by  400  of  the  working- 
classes  to  my  wife,  and  a  cabinet  coming.     God  bless  them  ! 

"This  day  I  had  in  the  Barony  some  1,150  communicants  ;  in  the  Mis- 
sion Church  243  ;  at  Parkhead  85  ;  in  all,  1,478.  Among  these  were  my 
darling  mother,  my  wife,  John  Campbell,  Mrs.  Maenab,  my  sister  Jane, 
aunts — all  beloved  ones. 

"  I  preached  on  Joy  in  God,  and  giving  of  thanks.     It  was  not  written ; 

no  vestige  of  it  remains.     But  it  was  a  great  joy  verily,  and  perfect  peace 

.   i     "(-        "■"--,--.     I,     '  n        ,i,  „  | 

..  .        .        jl  lio v ojl  ..  -  .    ; 

"  The  Mission  Church  was  crowded  in  the  evening.  I  preached  on  'I 
know  in  whom  I  have  believed.'  A  glorious  text  !  Dear  friends,  Mrs. 
Lockhart,  the  Cruras,  Mrs.  Campbell,  were  there,  and  Peel  Dennistoun  (my 
own  son),  who  joined  in  communion  for  the  first  time  to-day. 

'Again  I  say  what  a  day  of  joy  ! 

"And  now  I  retire  to  rest,  praising  and  blessing  God.  Amen  and  Amen. 

"30th. — This  is  my  last  night  at  home.  I  have  iinished  my  story  of 
'Billy  Biittons' — how,  I  know  not  !  I  hardly  recollect  an  idea  of  it.  To- 
day visited  sick,  and  baptized,  etc.  I  have  had  a  happy  party  with  me:  my 
darling  mother — so  calm  and  nice,  my  aged  aunts,  my  brothers  and  sisters 
— my  children  !  What  a  blessed  meeting,  finished  by  prayer.  I  wrote 
thirty  letters  last  night,  after  meeting  of  .Session,  from  11  till  4  a.m. 

"Thank  God  I  wrote  with  a  full  heart  a  most  cordial  letter  to  Dr.  Duff, 
but  it  grieves  my  soul  to  hear  that  they  open  the  '  Free  Barony'  to-morrow, 
the  day  I  leave,  and  that  Dr.  Duff  opens  it !  Nine  hearers  only  left  the 
Barony  twenty-four  years  ago  and  joined  the  Free  Chuich  ;  on  the  Sunday 
question  not  one,  }_et  they  build  a  Free  Barony  !  Free  !  In  contrast  with 
the  old  %     In  Doctrine  1     Discipline  ?     Worship  %     What  % 

"  God  sees  all,  and  He  is  better  than  us  all. 

"  I  have  left  everything  in  order.  I  believe  I  shall  return  safe.  But  oh! 
tliose  I  leave  behind.  I  joy  in  God  !  I  know  He  is  with  me,  and  will 
guide  me,  and  make  me,  poor  as  I  am,  advance  His  Kingdom.     Amen  ! 

"  What  more  can  I  desire  ? 

"  I  bless  God  for  the  manifold  signs  He  has  given  me  of  His  goodness. 
My  Father,  it  is  all  between  me  and  Thee. 

"  Father,  I  am  Thy  child ;  keep  me  as  a  child  !     Amen  and  Amen. 

"  o\st  October,  1  a.m. — P.S. — I  must  here  record  the  pleasing  fact  that 
two  engine-drivers  from  the  Caledonian  Kail  way  called  here  to-day  to 
express  the  wish  of  themselves  and  comrades  that  I  would  speak  a  good 
word  to  their  brother  engine-drivers  in  India  !  They  were  to  send  me  the 
names  of  their  friends  abroad.     This  is  very  delightful  and  encouraging." 

Before  he  left  London  a  farewell  dinner  was  given  in  his  honour  at 
Willis's  Eooms,  at  which  Dean  Alforcl  presided,  and  many  friends, 
literary  and  clerical,  were  present. 

The  effects  of  the  fatigue  he  had  suffered  during  the  last  fewT  weeks 
told  visibly  on  his  health.  When  he  started  for  Paris,  his  limbs  and 
feet  were  much  swollen,  and  continued  so  nearly  all  the  time  he  was 
in  India. 

His  impressions  of  India  have  been  so  fully  narrated  in  his  "  Peeps 
at  the  Far  East"  that  only  a  few  extracts  from  his  letters  are  given  here 
for  biographical  purposes  : — 


INDIA.  3G7 

To  Mrs.  MACLEOD  : — 

"  We  are  running  along  the  coast  of  Sicily.  The  day  superb,  a  fresh  cum- 
mer breeze  blowing  after  us,  and  every  sail  set,  the  blue  waves  curling  their 
snowy  heads  ;  the  white  towns  fringing  the  sea,  the  inland  range  of  mountains 
shaded  with  the  high  clouds.  No  sickness ;  children  even  laughing. 
Nothing  can  be  more  exhilarating.  I  have  been  very  well,  though  the 
limbs  are  as  yet  much  about  it.  We  have  a  very  pleasant  party  on  board. 
Such  writing,  reading,  chatting,  laughing,  smoking,  knitting,  walking,  loung- 
ing, eating  and  drinking  on  the  part  of  the  seventy  passengers  you  never 
saw  ! 

"  I  am  getting  crammed  all  day  by  a  Parsee,  a  missionary,  two  editors, 
and  a  judge,  and  already  know  more  than  I  knew  before  starting.  Every 
hour  brings  a  new  acquaintance. 

"  Oh,  that  I  knew  that  you  were  as  I  am  !  and  my  children.  Had  you 
only  this  blue  sky  and  warm  sun,  and  laughing  sea !  It  is  the  ideal  of  a 
day.  The  sheep,  and  cocks  and  hens,  and  cow  are  all  happy,  and  the  boat- 
swain whistling  like  a  thrush. 

"  Tell  me  always  about  the  congregation." 

To  the  Same  : —  "  The  Rangoon  Steamer, 

ISth  A'ovembcr. 

"Preaching  on  board  has  been  a  difficult  task.  The-pulpit  was  the  cap- 
stan, and  it  was  intensely  ludicrous  to  feel  one's  self  embracing  it  with  all 
one's  might  as  the  ship  rolled  to  leeward. 

"  lied  Sea. — I  preached  yesterday  nearly  an  hour  on  deck,  but  had  so  to 
exert  myself  that  I  was  quite  exhausted.  Old  Indians  ministered  to  me, 
and  poured  iced  water  over  my  head,  and  gave  me  some  to  drink  with  a 
little  brandy  in  it,  which  quite  restored  me.  But  everything  savours  of 
heat.  The  sea  water  is  hot.  The  crew  are  all  Lascars  or  Chinamen. 
Punkas  are  kept  going  in  the  cabin,  or  it  would  be  intolerable.  But  I  just 
thaw  on — laugh  and  joke,  and  feel  quite  happy. 

"  It  was  so  odd  to-day  to  see  all  the  crew  inustei'ed — about  fifty  blacks  in 
their  gay  turbans,  like  a  long  row  of  tulips,  with  half-a-dozen  Chinamen 
with  their  little  eyes,  broad-brimmed  hats,  and  wide  trousers.  They  are 
most  earnest  at  the  wheel,  and  are  the  steersmen." 

To  the  Same  : — 

"On  the  Indian  Ocean. 

"  We  were  immensely  gratified  by  the  address*  which  was  presented  to 
us  by  the  captain  and  officers  and  all  the  passengers.  It  took  us  quite 
aback — its  spontaneity,  his  heartiness.  I  send  you  a  copy  as  published  in 
the  Times  of  India.  The  original  I  shall  preserve  as  one  of  the  most  pre- 
cious documents  in  my  possession.  I  told  the  passengers  that  I  was  pleased 
with  it,  were  it  for  no  other  reason  than  that  it  would  please  my  wife  and 
mother,  and  congregation  and  friends  at  home.  I  preached  to  them  with 
all  my  heart,  on  holding  fast  their  confidence  in  Christ — and  I  felt  the 
power  of  the  gospel.  It  required  all  my  strength  to  speak  for  forty-five 
minutes  and  the  thermometer  85  cleg.,  to  about  a  hundred  and  sixty  peo- 
ple, and  to  dominate  over  the  engine  and  screw.     But  all  heard  me." 

*  See  Appendix  A. 


368  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

Letter  from  Dr.  Watson  to  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"  On  board  the  Rangoon,  on  the  Iudian  Ocean. 

Monday.  November  25th,  1807. 

"  We  are  here  in  expectation  of  landing  at  Bombay  to-morrow,  and 
all  in  a  bustle  of  preparation.  The  fountains  of  the  great  hold  of  the 
ship  are  opened,  and  a  score,  of  fellows,  black,  brown,  copper-coloured,  of  all 
dark  hues,  from  soot  to  pepper  and  salt,  are  lifting  the  luggage  on  deck, 
from  one  tier  to  another.  Home  passengers  are  eagerly  peeping  down,  to 
watch  when  theirs  shall  appear ;  others,  like  your  husband,  are  busily  ar- 
ranging their  cabin,  and  gathering  together  cuffs,  ties,  caps,  coats,  hosen  and 
hats,  that  have  been  tossing  about  for  nearly  a  fortnight.  Norman,  you 
must  understand,  has  a  cabin  to  himself,  and  this  arrangement  has  de- 
veloped his  admirable  habits  of  order.  '  Come  here,'  he  sometimes  said  to 
me  as  we  were  steering  down  the  Red  Sea,  or  in  this  pleasanter  Indian 
Ocean,  '  come  here  and  see  my  draper's  shop,'  and  there  it  was,  like  a  vil- 
lage draper's,  with  all  manner  of  clothes  hanging  from  the  roof — here  a 
shirt  hung  up  by  a  button-hole,  there  a  neckerchief  tied  by  the  corner,  bags, 
books,  papers,  forced  into  unwilling  company  and  appearing  uneasy  in  the 
society  into  which  they  had  fallen.  There  was  a  decent  black  hat  with  its 
sides  meeting  like  a  trampled  tin  pan.  '  Man,'  says  he,  by  way  of  explana- 
tion, '  last  night  1  felt  something  very  pleasant  at  my  feet.  I  put  my  feet 
on  it  and  rested  them — I  was  half  asleep.  How  very  kind,  I  thought,  of 
the  steward,  to  put  in  an  extra  air  cushion,  and  when  I  looked  in  the  morn- 
ing it  was  my  hat  !'  To-day,  however,  everything  is  magnified  in  character 
a  hundredfold.  I  have  jiist  stepped  into  his  cabin,  and  the  draper's  shop 
is  like  a  dozen  drapers'  shops ;  a  lumber-room  before  a  washing  day  ;  a 
(ravelling  merchant's  stall  on  the  morning  of  a  country  fair  ;  a  pawnbroker's 
establishment  in  the  process  of  dismantling  will  give  you  an  idea  of  it. 
There  is  not  an  inch  of  the  floor  or  bed  to  be  seen,  all  covered  with  boxes, 
and  the  contents  of  boxes.  You  look  up  to  the  ceiling  but  there  is  no  ceil- 
ing. Never  did  a  public  washing  green  show  such  exquisite  variety,  and 
for  two  yards  outside  of  the  cabin  door  are  open  trunks  waiting  like  patient 
camels  to  be  loaded  and  filled.  '  Steward,'  I  hear  him  say,  '  did  you  see  my 
red  fez  V  ■  '  Is  it  a  blue  one  V  is  the  counter  inquiry.  '  No  !'  roars  Norman, 
'  it's  a  red  one.  If  you  see  it,  bring  it,  and  if  any  fellow  won't  give  it  up, 
bring  the  head  with  it.'  'All  right,  sir,'  replies  the  obsequious  steward. 
'  Any  man,'  I  hear  him  say  again,  any  man  who  tries  to  open  a  portman- 
i  eau  when  it  won't  open,  or  to  shut  it  when  it  won't  shut,  for  half  an  hour, 
and  keeps  his  temper -'  the  rest  of  the  sentence  is  drowned  in  the  laugh- 
ter of  bystanders.  Poor  man,  it  is  not  for  want  of  muscle  and  labour  that 
these  ill-conditioned  portmanteaus  misbehave. 

"  We  have  had  a  very  prosperous  voyage,  and  a  very  happy  one.  Long 
talks  of  our  friends  at  home — now  in  merriment,  and  again  pausing  to  let 
the  corners  of  the  eye  right  themselves — talks  of  what  has  been,  and  talks 
of  what  we  expect  to  see  and  do." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  :— 

"  I  was  awakened  at  three  on  Tuesday  morning  by  our  guns  signalling 
for  a  pilot.  Soon  the  whole  vessel  was  alive  with  excited  passengers,  and 
sleep  was  gone.     The  sun  was  rising  as  I  went  on  deck,  and  never  in  my 


INDIA.  369 

life  did  I  see  anything  more  gorgeous  than  the  golden  clouds,  the  picturesque 
hills,  the  splendid  bay,  and  the  palm-trees  everywhere. 

"My  eyes  are  closing  with  sleep. 

"I  am  writing  all  alone  under  the  verandah  in  Mr.  Orum's  house.  The 
shades  of  evening  are  rapidly  closing,  'for  in  one  stride  conies  the  dark,' 
and  the  weather  is  hot,  and  the  crickets  are  chirping,  and  the  mosquitoes 
are  buzzing,  and  the  sultry  air  closes  the  eyes.     I  must  sleep. 

"  The  features  which  struck  me  most  on  landing,  and  when  driving  five 
miles  or  so  to  this,  were  crowds  of  naked  men  with  thin  lanky  legs,  some 
with  huge  earrings  or  huge  red  turbans,  not  a  stitch  on  but  a  cloth  round 
their  loins,  ugly,  miserable-looking  creatures  ;  but  the  whole  crowd,  without 
the  colour  or  picturesqueness  of  the  East.  They  look  black,  ugly,  poverty- 
stricken  wretches;  the  native  huts,  such  as  one  would  expect  to  see  in  the 
poorest  villages  in  Africa:  the  streets  confused  rubbish,  unfinished,  a  total 
absence  of  order  or  anything  imposing,  huggery-muggery  everywhere.  The 
one  good  feature,  until  I  came  to  Malabar  Hill,  where  we  live,  is  the  glori- 
ous masses  of  cocoa-trees  and  palms,  here  and  there,  with  houses  or  huts 
nestling  near  them,  and  troops  of  naked  bronze  children  running  about. 

"December  3,  Tuesday. — We  have  had  a  great  St.  Andrew's  dinner. 
Morning  meeting  of  missionaries  of  all  denominations.  Dr.  Wilson  most 
kind.  I  preached  on  Sunday.  Such  a  crowd.  The  governor,  commander- 
in-chief,  and  a  number  of  high-class  natives  were  present.  I  never  saw  such 
a  scene.     Had  a  long  meeting  with  the  Corresponding  Board  yesterday. 

"Coljcmm, — As  we  left  the  village  to  return  at  eight,  the  scene  was  very 
striking.  The  huge  red  moon  was  rising  over  the  village,  between  lis  and 
the  sky  was  the  outline  of  the  temples,  with  banyan  and  other  trees.  Shep- 
herds were  driving  in  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats,  while  in  the  centre  of  the 
picture  was  the  group  of  white-robed  Christians,  pastors,  elders,  and  people, 
with  the  missionaries  from  the  great  Western  world. 

"  The  night  will  soon  pass! 

"  At  eight  we  returned  to  the  same  place,  accompanied  by ,  who,  like 

most  Europeans,  knows  nothing  almost  of  the  American  Mission  or  any 
other ;  and  though  seventeen  years  in  the  district,  had  never  visited  or  ex- 
amined into  it,  and  would  have  no  doubt  told  the  people  at  home  that  they 
were  doing  nothing.  He  confessed  his  surprise  at  what  he  saw.  There 
were  thirty  Christians  and  about  seventy  heathens  present.  Psalms  wrere 
sung  in  Mahratti,  and  the  tunes  Mahratti  also,  the  precentor  being  a  pastor, 
who  accompanied  the  air  on  a  big  guitar,  held  vertically  like  a  bass  fiddle. 
Then  prayer,  then  an  address  on  Transmigration  of  Souls.  Then  one  by  a 
famous  native  preacher,  intellectual,  calm,  and  eloquent,  Hamechuna,  on  the 
only  true  religion  which,  he  said,  was  in  accordance  with  the  character  of 
God,  the  wants  of  men,  and  was  revealed  in  Scripture.  Among  other  evi- 
dences he  mentioned  the  moral  character  of  Christians,  and  appealed  to  the 
very  heathen  to  judge  as  to  the  dilFerence  between  the  native  Christians  and 
the  native  heathen.  I  gave  an  address  on  both  occasions,  which  was  trans- 
lated, and  so  did  Watson.  They  gave  an  address  to  us.  The  Moderator 
sent  in  his  own  hand-writing  a  IctLer  after  me,  which  I  beg  you  to  copy  and 
keep  as  gold. 

"I  never  spent  a  more  delightful  evening  in  my  life!     The  Americans 

21 


370  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

have  six  hundred  members,  seventy  or  eighty  teachers,  six  native  pastors, 
with  excellent  schools  for  Christian  children  onlv.  Preaching  is  their  forte. 
" .  .  .  .  It  is  one  of  the  mysteries  in  this  land  to  hear  natives  teach 
Christianity,  who  have  been  possessed  of  every  argument  in  its  favour,  for 
years,  but  are  as  far  from  accepting  it  as  ever.  Their  difficulties  are  not 
from  immorality,  for  their  lives  are  equal  to  the  average  of  most  professing, 
though  not  real,  Christians  at  home.  They  are  happy,  on  the  whole,  in 
their  families,  live  all  together,  and  are  fond  of  their  relations,  and  are  sober, 
and,  among  each  other,  tolerably  truthful  and  honest — and,  on  the  whole, 
faithful  servants,  etc.  Nor  are  their  difficulties  chiefly  intellectual,  though 
the  Christianity  which  they  oppose  is  often  misapprehended — I  fear,  in  some 
respects  and  in  some  cases,  misrepresented — by  missionaries  with  little  cul- 
ture. But  their  difficulties  are  social ;  they  have  not,  as  yet,  the  deep  con- 
victions and  the  moral  strength  to  give  up  Caste.  This  would,  in  almost 
every  case,  imply  the  breaking  up  of  their  whole  family  life — parent?,  wife, 
children,  and  friends  being  separated  from  them  as  literally  out-casts.  But, 
nevertheless,  I  cannot  comprehend  the  want  of  soul,  the  apparent  want  of 
a  capacity  to  be  possessed,  overpowered,  mastered  by  the  truth.  Many  will 
fly  round  and  round  the  light,  but  never  see  it.  They  will  give  the  fullest 
account  of  Christianity,  and  say  they  disbelieve  in  all  idolatry,  yet  every 
day  perform  at  home  their  idolatrous  rites — be  almost  ready  for  ordination, 
and  take  a  whim  to  go  as  a  pilgrim  to  the  holy  cities.  Superstition  and 
Fetisch  live  in  them." 

To  the  Same  : — 

"  Bombay,  December  1. 

"  It  seems  an  age  since  I  left  home.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  an  old  Indian, 
and  had  become  familiar  with  heat  and  heathenism.  I  have  been  very  well. 
The  swelling  in  my  feet  is  as  bad  as  ever,  but  I  have  no  pain  of  any  kind. 

"  As  to  our  work  here,  everything  has  succeeded  beyond  our  most  san- 
guine expectation.  We  have  seen  much,  heard  much,  and,  I  hope,  learned 
much.     We  feel  that  we  have  done  good. 

"  I  communicated  yesterday  with  the  native  congregation  of  the  Free 
Church.     About  eighty  communicants." 

From  a  letter  of  Sir  Alexander  Grant  to  a  friend  at  home  : — 

"  I  had  a  select  party  of  educated  natives  to  meet  Dr.  Macleod.  He 
talks  to  them  in  a  large,  conciliatory,  manly  way,  which  is  a  peiiect  model 
of  missionary  style.  I  had  the  most  charming  talks  with  him,  lasting 
always  till  2  a.m.,  and  his  mixture  of  poetry,  thought,  tenderness,  manly 
.sense,  and  humour  was  to  me  perfectly  delightful.  I  had  no  idea  his  soul 
was  so  great.  His  testimony  about  India  will  be  most  valuable,  for  he  has 
such  quickness  of  apprehension  as  well  as  largeness  of  view,  and  has  had 
such  wide  previous  experience  of  all  European  Churches  and  countries." 

To  Mrs.  Watson  : — 

"Bombay,  November  29th,  1SG7. 

"If  you  are  in  the  least  degree  inclined  to  pity  your  beloved  absentee,  to 
feel  anxious  about  him,  to  imagine  anything  whatever  wrong  with  him  in 
soul,  spirit,  or  body,  or  in  his  conduct  to  superiors,  inferiors,  or  equals.  T  : 


INDIA.  371 

to  assure  you  that  all  such  thoughtful,  spouselike  cares  are  thrown  away. 
J[e  is,  if  anything,  too  much  carried  away  by  a  sort  of  boyish  enthusiasm 
for  palm  groves,  and  laughs  too  much  at  the  naked  wretches  called  Hindoos 
who  crowd  the  streets.  He  is  also  very  weak  about  his  beard;  it  is  growing 
so  rapidly  that  it  threatens  to  conceal  his  whole  body,  and  to  go  beyond  the 
skirts  of  his  garments.  All  you  can  see  in  his  lace  are  a  mouth,  always 
laughing,  and  two  black  eyes,  always  twinkling.  But  for  my  constant 
gravity,  he  would  ruin  the  deputation  ! 

"  Those  who  don't  know  him,  as  I  do,  are  immensely  taken  with  him  !  " 

To  his  Mother  :- 

"Madras,  23rd  December,  1867. 

"  I  have  never  forgotten  this  anniversary  of  the  first  break  in  our  family.* 
It  was  a  terrible  time,  but  has  passed  away  as  such  long  ago,  its  memory 
associated  with  that  of  a  saint  in  heaven,  and  many  spiritual  blessings  to 
those  who  partook  of  the  sorrow,  and  to  myself  especially.  I  have  full 
faith  that  all  my  dear  ones  above  sympathize  with  my  work  here." 

To  Mrs.   Macleod  : — 

"  Bangalore,  Last  Sunday  of  1S67. 

"  I  have  had  a  peaceful  hour  for  devotion  ;  and  who  but  God  can  inter- 
pret my  thoughts  as  on  this  day  I  recall  all  the  way  He  has  led  me  during 
those  many  years — thirty  of  which  have  been  passed  in  the  ministry — ail 
ending  in  India,  with  the  greatest  and  noblest  work  ever  given  me  to  do, 
a-doing  !  The  whole  review,  with  all  its  sin,  its  darkness,  selfishness, 
vanity,  the  best  hours  how  bad  !  and  with  all  I  have  been,  and  have  done, 
and  have  left  undone,  and  all  I  am,  with  all  the  blessed  God  has  been,  and 
done,  and  is,  and  ever  will  be  to  me — all  this  finds  expression  in  falling  at 
the  feet  of  my  Father  in  adoration,  wonder  and  praise ;  seeing  the  glory  of 
salvation  by  grace,  of  justification  through  faith  in  my  God,  of  the  magnifi- 
cent suitableness  to  all  my  wants,  to  all  which  ought  to  be  towards  God,  in 
what  was  clone  by  my  Head,  Jesus  Christ,  for  me,  and  what  He  is  doing,  and 
will  perfect  in  me.  I  have  had  great  peace  and  joy  in  pouring  out  my 
heart  for  His  grace  and  guidance  that  our  time  and  talents  may  be  used  for 
His  glory ;  in  confessing  our  sin  as  a  missionary  Church,  and  praying  that 
He  Himself  would  build  up  our  Sion,  and  bless  us  by  enabling  us  to  take 
a  part  worthy  of  a  Christian  Church  in  advancing  His  kingdom  in  this 
grand  but  degraded  land ;  in  praying  for  you  and  all  my  darlings  by  name, 
that  they  may  not  be  merely  well  instructed,  polished  heathen,  but  truly 
attached  to  God  in  faith  and  love,  which  through  the  Spirit  are  in  Christ 
Jesus ;  and  that  you,  my  own  self,  may  be  strong  in  faith  and  kept  in  per- 
fect peace ;  and  for  my  beloved  people,  that  they  may  be  ministered  to  by 
the  Spirit  this  day  and  every  day.  May  the  Lord  reward  you  all — family 
and  people — for  your  love  to  me  and  prayers  for  me  !  But  to  my  Mission 
work  ! 

"  I  wrote  to  you  up  to  Friday,  27th.  That  was  a  busy  day  !  Eight  a.m., 
till  ten,  visited  Dr.  Patterson's  medical  mission  and  hospital  ;  eleven,  a 
meeting  till  one,  with  about  thirteen  native  pastors  of  all  the  Churches,  in 
the  presence  of  the  European  missionaries.     Bajahgopal  and  others  spoke  as 

*  His  brother  James'  death. 


372  LIFE  01   NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

well  as  I  could.  We  asked,  and  got,  information  showing  the  great  changes 
which  have  taken  place  in  the  native  mind  in  regard  to  persecuting  con- 
verts, &c.  A.t  half-past  five  we  had  a  magnificent  meeting  in  the  great 
Memorial  Hall,  with  the  bishop  in  the  chair.  The  Governor,  Commander- 
in-Chief,  present,  and  all  the  elite  of  Madras.  I  suggested  the  meeting,  to 
tell  on  Madras  and  Home,  and  to  challenge  contradiction  on  the  spot  to  the 
statements  which  each  missionary  gave  of  the  history  and  condition  of  his 
mission.  I  spoke,  and  so  did  Watson.  The.  Bishop  is  a  most  Christian 
man  :  his  meekness  makes  him  creat.     At  eijrht,  conference  in  our  Institu- 

"  December  31. — The  last  dajr  of  the  year  !  It  is  impossible  to  write,  1 
am  weary  of  '  attentions  ' — people  at  breakfast,  people  at  tiffin,  people  at 
dinner,  people  calling  ;  then  meetings,  visiting  of  schools,  &c,  &c,  so  that  T 
have  not  one  second  to  myself.     It  is  now  two,  and  not  a  moment. 

"  We  had  about  twelve  yesterday  here  to  breakfast — Wesleyans — one  of 
whom  came  out  the  same  year  as   Duff.     We  talked  till  one.     Many  of 

them  did  not  seem  acquainted  with  any  difficulties.     said,    I  go  to  a 

village,  sit  down,  tell  them  they  must  live  after  death,  and  forever  be  in  hell 
or  heaven,  and  then  tell  them  how  to  get  out  of  hell  hy  Jesus  Christ.'  Cal- 
vanism,  and  Plymouthism,  and  indifference,  seem  to  divide  the  Europeans. 
There  are  noble  civilians,  and  bad  ones ;  fine,  manly  missionaries,  and  weak 
ones.  We  require  a  broad,  manly,  earnest  Christianity,  and  not  formal 
orthodoxy,  weak  '  Evangelicalism,'  or  sickly  Plymouthism. 

"We  drove  through  the  Rettah,  or  native  town,  with  its  crowded 
bazaars.  The  houses  are  low  and  the  bazaars  poor;  yet  many  are  very  rich 
in  it.  Saw  silk-weaving  by  the  native  loom.  Saw  the  best  female  school 
I  think  to  be  found  in  India,  taught  by  two  truly  noble  women — so  clever 
and  energetic,  such  genuine  ladies — the  Misses  Anstey.  They  have  money 
of  their  own  ;  their  work  is  one  of  true  love.  What  teaching  !  what  influ- 
ence !  what  power  !  The  senior  class  of  fifty  girls;  the  junior,  with  two 
hundred  or  more.  I  could  not  puzzle  the  senior  class  on  the  Old  Testament 
from  Genesis  to  Samuel,  nor  on  the  New  in  the  Gospels  and  Acts.  All  are 
Canarese ;  but  my  questions  were  interpreted.  They  do  not  yet  profess 
Christianity,  but  never  can  these  oe  idolaters ;  and  whether  they  marry 
(  hiistian  husbands  or  heathen,  they  must  exercise  a  leavening  influence. 
My  heart  and  eyes  were  full." 

"January  1,  18G8,  Bangalore. — This  is  my  first  greeting  for 'G8  Our 
plans  are  again  changed,  and  instead  of  bringing  in  the  }Tear  in  the  rail- 
way we  are  spending  it  calmly  and  quietly  here.  The  fact  is  I  took  a 
disgust  yesterday  at  travelling  and  work  of  every  kind.  We  had  intended 
to  tour  it  very  hard  till  Saturday,  and  to  go  over  some  hundreds  of  miles  to 
see  either  Seringapatam  or  Tanjore.  But  because  we  had  rested  and  did 
nothing  yesterday  we  began  to  feel  weary  and  to  realise  how  we  had  been 
kept  up  by  constant  excitement,  and  that  we  required  perfect  quiet.  So 
after  our  things  were  packed  I  took  a  fit  of  disgust  at  Idolatry,  Missions, 
sight-seeing  and  everything,  and  saw  but  one  paradise— i-est — and  so  we  re- 
turn to  Madias,  where  we  shall  have  little  to  do  till  we  sale  on  the  dth  for 
( lalcutta.  I  am  glad  we  did  so,  as  we  are  enjoying  this  cool,  or  rather  cold, 
her  intensely,  and  doing  nothing. 

"  We  returned  last  night  at  8,  and  here  I  am  writing  as  well  and  hearty 


INDIA.  373 

as  ever  I  was  in  my  life,  actually  enjoying  the  weather,  so  that  I  begged 
them  at  breakfast  to  stop  the  punkah,  as  it  was  making  me  sneeze.  In  fact, 
I  am  getting  too  fond  of  India.  Take  care  you  get  me  home,  as  they  are 
spoiling  me  fast.     Actually  asked  to  a  ball  at  the  Governor's  !  1" 

"Calcutta,  Jan.  23rd,  1SG3. 

"  My  only  touch  of  illness  since  I  left  has  been  this  week.  I  had  my  old 
gout,  which  quite  lamed  me  and  compelled  me  to  keep  my  bed  since  Tues- 
day, and  so  I  missed  a  state  dinner  at  Government  House,  at  which  many 
were  invited  to  meet  us.  I  was  all  right  except  the  heel.  But  you  know 
my  love  for  a  day  in  bed.  I  had  twelve  missionaries  in  conclave  around 
me.  Church  Missionary,  London,  Baptist,  Free  and  Established.  So  I  was 
honoured  while  on  my  throne.  One  old  missionaiy  was  the  friend  of  Carey 
and  Ward.  While  I  keep  my  leg  up  I  am  quite  well,  and  shall  be  as  usual 
to-morrow.  I  never  enjoyed  better  health  and  spirits ;  but  must  take  it 
more  calmly.  It  is  not  away  !  A  public  dinner  is  to  be  given  us  on  Friday 
week.  We  leave  for  Gyah  on  the  3rd.  Like  a  school-boy  I  say,  '  The 
month  after  next  I  hope  to  leave  India  for  home  !' " 

"  Calcutta,  3lsl  January. 

"  One  line  to  say  we  are  well  and  hearty,  very  hard  wrought  indeed,  hav- 
ing had  much  care  ;  but  all  things  going  on  well. 

"  All  parties  strive  to  do  us  honour  from  the  Governor  and  Bishop  down 
to  the  Fakir.     I  have  much  to  say." 

From  the  Friend  of  India,  Jan.  23rd,  1SG8: — 

"  The  presence  of  Dr.  Macleod  has  cheered  many  a  worker  and  helped  to 
enlighten  many  a  doubter.  More  remarkable  than  his  receptive  powers, 
amounting  to  genius,  which  enable  him  to  appreciate  the  merits  of  abstruse 
political  questions ;  more  striking  than  his  marvellous  conversational  gifts  ; 
more  impressive  than  his  public  speeches,  have  been  his  sermons.  That  is 
the  perfection  of  art  without  art.  Of  his  three  sermons  in  Calcutta  two 
were  addressed  to  doubters,  being  devoted  to  a  semi-philosophical  exposition 
of  our  Lord's  Divinity  and  Atonement.  He  spoke  as  a  man  to  men,  not  as 
a  priest  to  beings  of  a  lower  order ;  he  reasoned  as  one  who  had  himself  felt 
the  darkness,  avowedly  to  help  those  who  were  still  in  the  gloom.  Affecta- 
tion seems  as  foreign  to  the  character  as  it  is  to  the  thought  of  this  John 
Bright  of  the  pulpit.  The  lesson  taught  to  preachers  by  the  crowds  of  high 
and  low  who  nocked  to  hear  him,  was,  as  it  seems  to  us,  that  truth  and 
honesty,  guided  by  faith  and  unconsciousness  of  self,  and  expressed  in  manly 
speech  face  to  face,  will  restore  to  the  pulpit  a  far  higher  function  than  the 
Press  has  taken  from  it." 

His  work  in  India  reached  its  climax  as  well  as  its  unexpected  close 
in  Calcutta.  The  reception  there  accorded  to  the  Deputies  was  pecu- 
liarly hearty  ;  but  the  fatigue  and  mental  excitement  produced  by 
speeches,  sermons,  conferences,  and  addresses  were  excessive  ;  and 
when,  to  mark  the  close  of  their  three  weeks'  labour  in  the  capital,  a 
public  dinner  was  given  to  them — the  first  which  the  Governor-Gen- 


374  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

eral  ever  honoured  with  his  presence — Dr.  Macleod  made  a  speech 
which  proved  the  last  he  was  to  deliver  in  India.  From  Dr.  Watson's 
account  of  the  work  gone  through  on  that  single  day,  it  is  not  wonder- 
ful that,  at  midnight,  he  found  himself  prostrated  with  illness. 

"  In  the  morning  he  drove  from  the  suburbs,  where  he  was  living,  to 
a  meeting  in  the  city,  where  he  spoke  about  half  an  hour.  From  that 
he  went  to  the  General  Assembly's  Institution,  and  took  an  active  part 
in  the  examination  which  was  held  of  the  various  classes:  this  over, 
the  advanced  students  of  the  Free  Church  Institution  assembled  along 
with  the  students  who  had  just  been  examined  ;  and  in  that  great  hall, 
which  was  full,  and  which  accommodated  about  a  thousand  persons, 
he  delivered  a  vigorous  and  stirring  address,  which  lasted  a  full  hour. 
When  the  proceedings  came  to  a  close,  a  large  company  were  enter- 
tained to  lunch  by  Dr.  Ogilvie  at  his  house,  and  then,  of  course,  no  one 
cared  to  hear  anybody  say  a  word  except  the  guest  of  the  day.  When 
he  reached  home  that  afternoon,  after  a  drive  of  five  or  six  miles,  he 
was  in  a  state  of  sheer  exhaustion  ;  and  though  he  was  most  nervous 
about  the  evening,  he  tried  to  snatch  an  hour  of  sleep ;  for  he  wished 
to  do  perfect  justice  to  his  work,  and  he  felt  that  in  one  sense  the  work 
of  his  mission  was  to  terminate  with  the  dinner,  which  was  arranged 
for  eight  o'clock  that  night,  when  every  phase  of  English  life  in  India 
would  be  represented  from  the  Viceroy  downwards. 

"  lie  had  spoken  often  of  his  desire  to  give  expression  on  this 
occasion  to  some  of  his  strong  convictions  on  the  relation  of  India  to 
England,  or  of  Englishmen  to  India  ;  and  though  he  had  had  an  oppor- 
tunity at  a  large  meeting  previously,  presided  over  by  the  Bishop  of 
Calcutta,  to  speak  on  missionary  affairs,  he  felt  that  the  last  occasion 
when  he  was  to  open  his  lips  in  public  before  he  left  Bengal,  was  one 
which  necessitated  a  wider  range  of  subject  than  any  ecclesiastical 
topic,  however  interesting  or  important.  His  reception  in  the  evening 
was  most  hearty.  He  rose  with  a  heavy  sense  of  what  he  was  to  say  ; 
and,  as  was  often  the  case  with  him  in  his  most  earnest  moments,  he 
started  with  a  few  unpremeditated  strokes  of  humour  and  homely 
words  which  touched  all  hearts,  and  in  a  minute  or  two  brought  him- 
self into  rapport  with  the  audience  and  the  audience  with  him. 

"  Only  on  one  occasion,  when  he  delivered  his  last  memorable 
speech  in  the  General  Assembly,  a  few  weeks  before  his. death,  have  I 
seen  him  so  agitated,  and,  to  use  a  common  expression,  '  weighted'  as 
he  was  then  ;  and  it  was  with  a  deep  sense  of  relief  that,  towards  mid- 
night, he  stretched  out  his  feet  and  smoked  his  cigar  before  going  to 
bed,  having  received  the  assurance,  from  those  he  relied  on,  that  all  his 
anxiety  and  care  in  regard  to  that  last  appearance  in  public  in  India 
had  not  been  thiown  away." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

'•  Ialcu  i  ia,  "tlh  February. 

"  On  comparing  this  date  with  that  on  telegram  you  will  be  surprised  at 


INDIA.  370 

my  being  here,  especially  if  you  have  read  the  FrUnd  of  India  and  learn 
that  I  have  been  '  prostrated  by  fatigue  '  you  will  be  in  delightful  anxiety, 
ami  my  mother  will  have  food  for  alarm  until  I  return  home. 

"  Just  after  the  telegram  "was  off  I  was  threatened   with  dysentery.     So 

the  doctors  gave  me  forty  grains  of  ipecacuanha  in  two  doses  in  a  few  hours. 
This  was  on  Wednesday.  I  at  once  said  Amen,  lay  in  bed,  obeyed  orders, 
and  slept  all  day,  read  newspapers,  &c,  when  awake,  saw  no  one,  and 
thoroughly  enjoyed  the  blessed  rest.  The  complaint  was  checked  yesterday, 
ami  between  the  perfect  rest  and  medicines  I  feel  gout  all  gone,  and  except 
the  weakness  of  being  in  bed,  nearly  perfectly  well,  very  jolly  and  not  the 
least  dovvie,  though  very  thankful  indeed  that  I  am  so  well.  To  show  you 
how  sensible  and  good  I  am,  I  have  allowed  Watson  go  off  alone  to  Gyah, 
the  only  really  rough  and  rude  drive  on  our  route,  and  I  remain  here  doing 
nothing,  seeing  nobody,  in  the  full  rollicking  enjoyment  of  idleness,  till 
Tuesday  or  Wednesday.  I  am  even  now  able  to  join  him,  but  I  take  four 
days'  holiday,  though  my  not  going  to  Gyah  is  a  terrible  loss  and  self-denial. 
This  will  prove  to  you  what  I  always  told  you,  that  I  would  return  direct 
home,  if  necessary,  the  moment  any  doctor  said  or  believed  I  should  do  so. 
Are  you  satisfied?  Don't  you  feel  I  am  telling  you  the  whole  truth  'I  Look 
at  me  !     Don't  I  look  honest  1 

"  The  fact  is  the  back  of  the  work  is  broken  !  It  is,  I  may  say,  done, 
and  well  done,  and  all  to  come  is  plain  sailing,  so  that  if  I  did  not  go  to 
Sealkote  at  all  (but  only  went  by  rail  to  Delhi  to  see  sights),  I  should  feel  a 
work  was  already  accomplished  far  beyond  my  most  sanguine  expectations. 
It  was  not  the  work  only,  but  the  excitement  that  put  me  wrong.  I  never 
preached  to  such  congregations.  The  admission  was  by  ticket,  a'*d  stairs 
and  lobbies  were  crammed,  and  many  went  away. 

"  The  Mission  Meeting  was  a  great  event.  Such  was  never  betore  held 
in  Calcutta,  called  by  the  Bishop,  and  attended  by  all  denominations,  and 
such  an  audience  to  welcome  us. 

"  Then  came  on  Saturday  an  evening  meeting  as  great  on  City  Missions. 
I  was  taken  all  aback.  But  it  was  a  great  success,  and  they  tell  me  1  have 
re-established  an  agency  which  was  declining.  The  public  dinner  made  me 
ashamed  of  having  so  much  honour  paid  us,  though  it  was  given  to  us  as 
deputies.  The  Viceroy  had  never  gone  to  a  public  dinner  in  Calcutta,  and  to 
see  such  guests  meet  to  do  us  honour  and  bid  us  farewell  !  It  passed  off 
splendidly  ! 

"  We  have  had  many  deeply  interesting  private  meetings  with  mis- 
sionaries— Zenana  included,  which  I  cannot  dwell  on  ;  but  one  meeting 
I  must  mention.  I  addressed  the  lads  attending  our  Institution,  and  at  my 
request  all  the  lads  of  the  Free  Church  Institution,  who  understood  English, 
came  to  hear  me,  and  all  the  missionaries,  as  well  as  many  or  the  ladies. 
They  have  met  me  with  unbounded  confidence.  They  are  a  nice  lot  oi 
fellows.  In  one  word,  God  has  helped  us,  and  helped  us  in  a  way  that  quite 
amazes  and  overpowers  me.  May  lie  give  me  grace  never  to  pervert  those 
great  tokens  of  His  mercy  to  personal  sectarian  objects. 

"  The  Bishop  has  been  very  kind,  and  Sir  John  Lawrence  has  acted  like 
8  brother  to  me  ;  in  fact,  all  have  contrived  how  to  please  and  oblige  us." 

"  Calcutta,  Saturday,  February  d. 
"  Since  writing  to  you  yesterday,  what  a  change  has  taken  place  in  all 


376  LIFE  OF  NOBMAN  MACLEOD. 

my  plans  !  I  intend  leaving  this  for  home  on  March  3,  so  that  as  you  are 
reading  this  I  am  on  the  ocean  going  home.  Are  you  not  glad  and  thank- 
ful ]  I,  on  the  whole,  am.  It  happened  thus  :  last  night  Dr.  Charles  said, 
'  if  you  had  asked  me,  I  should  have  forbid  your  going  to  Sealkote.'  '  Hallo!' 
I  said  ;  '  asked  you  V  '  Take  my  word  I  shall  ask  you,  and  that  most 
seriously,  and  no  mistake.'  So  I  insisted  that  he,  Dr.  Farquhar,  my  old 
friend,  and  Dr.  Fayrer,  Professor  of  Surgery,  should  meet  here  to-day,  and 
give  an  official  opinion.  They  have  done  so.*  They  don't  object  to  my 
going  along  the  railway  as  far  as  Delhi,  especially  as  the  climate  is  better 
there  than  here,  but  object  to  dak  travelling, — i.e.,  going  in  a  cab  and  two 
horses  as  far  as  from  Glasgow  to  London  and  back  ! — in  my  present  state  ; 
and  they  object  to  my  being  later  than  the  first  week  of  March,  as  the  climate 
might  from  present  symptoms  prove  dangerous.  I  feel  thoroughly  well  to- 
day, except  weakish  from  so  much  medicine.  I  am  quite  lame  again  in  the 
heel ;  but  they  laugh  at  that.  Thank  God  the  real  work  is  done  and  well 
done  !  Had  this  come  on  one  day  sooner  !  As  it  is,  I  am  full  of  gratitude 
for  all  that  has  been  done,  and  bow  my  head  for  what  I  cannot  accomplish. 
Dear  Watson  is  thoroughly  able  to  do  it  as  well  as  I  am,  and  since  he  is  so 
well  he  will  enjoy  it  as  I  would  have  done.  Amen !  Verily  God's  plans 
are  not  ours." 

After  a  brief  tour  to  Benares,  Allahabad,  Cawnpore,  Lucknow,  Agra, 
and  Delhi,  he  sailed  from  Calcutta  on  the  25th  February.  Owing  to 
the  kindness  of  Sir  John  Lawrence,  his  voyage  to  Egypt  was  made 
peculiarly  happy  and  comfortable.  Lady  Lawrence  was  returning  to 
England  with  her  daughter,  and  was  to  sail  as  far  as  Suez  in  the  Fcroze, 
an  old  man-of-war,  then  used  for  the  service  of  the  Governor-General, 
and  Sir  John,  with  a  friendliness  which  was  heartily  appreciated,  asked 
him,  as  a  guest,  to  share  the  ease  which  the  roomy  accommodation  of 
the  yacht  afforded.  The  perfect  rest  and  comfort  he  thus  enjoyed 
proved  most  helpful  to  his  recovery. 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"I  parted  with  "William  Craik,  whose  kindness,  constant,  considerate, 
unwearying,  was  that  of  a  brother  more  than  a  friend.  I  cannot  tell  you 
all  he  and  his  wife  were  to  me.  The  Governor-General  came  down  to  the 
Feroze  in  his  tug,  and  talked  with  me  for  about  two  hours  in  the  frankest 
manner,  giving  me  an  immense  number  of  most  interesting  facts  about  his 
life  and  government  in  the  Punjaub,  the  mutiny,  Delhi,  &c.  I  was  greatly 
touched  by  his  goodness,  and  I  loved  him  the  more  when  I  saw  him  weep- 
ing as  he  parted  for  one  year  only  from  his  wife  and  daughter.  I  cannot 
tell  you  what  kindness  I  have  received.  Sir  William  Muir  came  on  Monday 
morning,  to  see  me;  and  Sir  R.  Temple  came  the  night  before  I  left,  drove 
about  with  me,  dined  at  Craik's  alone  with  us,  all  the  while  giving  me 
volumes  of  information  ': 

The  only  adventure  which  occurred  on  his  voyage  to  Suez  Avas  a 
harmless  shipwreck  some  twenty  miles  from  port,  caused  by  the  Feroze 

"See  A riDCiidix  !->. 


INDIA.  377 

running  on  a  sandbank,  and  having  no  worse  consequences  than  tlie 
delay  of  waiting  till  a  passing  steamer  took  off  the  passengers.  lie 
was  met  by  Mrs.  Macleod  at  Alexandria,  and  they  came  home  by 
Malta,  Sicily,  Naples,  liome,  Civita  Vecchia,  and  Marseilles.  In  spite 
of  some  benefit  derived  from  the  voyage,  his  strength  was  visibly 
broken,  and  his  limbs  betrayed  increased  liability  to  gout,  accompanied 
by  ever-recurring  attacks  of  acute  pain,  which  he  called  neuralgia,  but 
which  were  really  due  to  a  more  serious  derangement  of  the  system. 

To  Rev.  Dr.  Watson: — 

"February,  1SG8. 

"We  got  on  board  the  steamer — an  old,  broad-decked,  strong-built,  and 
high-masted  man-of-war,  with  a  huge  steam-engine,  and  able  to  go  when  we 
started  six  miles  an  hour.  India  soon  vanished  into  a  few  palm-trees  rising 
out  of  the  water  in  the  horizon;  and  as  I  thought  of  all  we  had  seen  and 
done,  and  not  seen  and  left  undone,  it  appeared  a  strange  dream,  and  I 
could  not  say  whether  shame  and  confusion  of  face  for  my  wretched  work, 
or  great  thanksgiving  to  God  for  His  tender  mercy,  were  most  in  my  mind. 
Perhaps  both  alternated.  Anyhow,  I  thanked  God  with  all  my  heart  for 
His  having  given  you  as  my  companion,  for  all  you  were  to  me,  for  His 
giving  you  the  honour  of  completing  the  work,  and  for  the  happy,  happy 
hours  we  had  together,  unbroken  by  a  single  shadow  to  darken  our  sunshine. 

".  .  ,  .  We  have  had  a  summer  sea  every  day  since  we  left.  Some  days 
a  glorious  breeze,  and  all  sail  set;  other  days  very  hot.  I  have  never  felt 
vigorous  on  board,  and  fear,  unless  it  is  this  hot  damp  climate,  that  I  am  in 
fer  gout  and  sciatica  for  life,  and  that  I  never  shall  be  fit  for  as  much  work 
as  before.  But  we  shall  see.  I  have  prayers  and  exposition  every  day, 
and  find  it  pleasant.  Sunday  services  as  usual.  Had  a  capital  day  with 
the  sailors  last  Sunday." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"  Sunday,  March  Sth. — A  glorious  day.  I  have  preached  on  the  quarter- 
deck, and  at  four  I  met  all  the  sailors  in  the  forecastle,  and  read  to  them 
'The  Old  Lieutenant'  for  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes  to  their  great  delight. 
The  sun  is  nearly  set ;  it  goes  down  like  a  shot  about  six,  and  no  twilight. 
The  sea  is  blue  as  indigo,  and  the  white  crisp  curling  waves  add  to  its 
beauty.  Two  white  bh'ds,  'boatswains,'  as  Jack  told  me,  'with  their  tails 
as  marling  spikes,' are  floating  in  the  blue,  hundreds  of  miles  from  land; 
thousands  of  flying-fish  skim  the  water  like  swallows,  each  flying  about  sixty 
yards  or  so.  All  the  sailors  are  in  their  Sunday  best ;  the  Lascars  dressed 
in  white  with  red  caps  on,  squatted  in  a  circle  mending  their  clothes.  The 
half-naked  coolies  and  firemen  lounging  and  sleeping,  or  eating  curry  and 
rice,  making  it  up  with  their  fingers  into  balls  and  chucking  it  into  their 
mouths.  Old  Pervo,  the  steward,  dressed  in  pure  white  calico  and  turban, 
is  snoring  on  his  back  on  a  carpet  spread  near  the  funnel;  and  I  in  my  hot 
cabin  writing  to  those  I  love,  and  wondering  if  I  am  indeed  to  have  the  joy 
of  seeing  them  again,  blessing  God  for  the  health  and  perfect  peace  He  is 
giving  me,  and  in  heart  trying  so  to  adjust  the  difference  of  Longitude  (71°) 
as  to  follow  the  Sunday  services  oi  my  beloved  people.  Such  is  our  Sunday 
at  sea  outwai  illr. 


378  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"Ceylon — Tlie  foliage!  The  glorious  foliage  !  Every  kind  of  tree,  palm 
and  chestnut ;  bread-fruit  tree,  with  its  large  furrowed  glittering  leaves — 
with  the  huge  dark  fruit  hanging  by  strings  from  the  bark;  the  graceful 
bamboo,  whose  yellow  branches  remind  one  of  old-fashioned  beds  and  chairs 
or  sticks ;  the  plantain,  with  its  large  green  leaves ;  down  to  the  sensitive 
plant  which  creeps  along  the  ditches,  while  beautifully  coloured  flowers  and 
creepers  colour  the  woods.  I  missed  the  flocks  of  paroquets  and  bright- 
coloured  birds  one  sees  in  North  India,  but  the  woods  resound  with  the 
jungle  fowl,  and  birds  with  sweet  notes.  Sunrise  from  St.  Nicolas  tower 
was  glorious.  The  sun  rose  like  a  ball  of  fire  out  of  the  sea  to  the  right, 
and  his  horizontal  rays,  shooting  across  the  island,  separated  the  many 
ranges  of  low  hills,  and  brought  out  the  higher  hills  to  the  north,  up  to 
Adam's  Peak,  fifty  miles  off".  All  those  hills  are  covered  with  forests  of 
palms  and  every  splendid  tree.  A  light  mist  lay  between  each  ridge,  and  a 
sleepy  radiance  of  wondrous  beauty  over  all.  The  smoke  of  comfortable 
cottages,  which  nestle  in  the  woods,  rose  here  and  there  in  white  wreaths, 
giving  a  sense  of  comfort  and  of  hunie  to  the  scene." 


CHAPTER     XXI. 

18G8. 

HIS  reception  by  the  General  Assembly,  when  be  first  entered  it 
on  his  return  from  India,  deeply  touched  him  ;  the  whole  house 
greeted  him  with  an  enthusiastic  outburst  of  welcome,  which  took  him 
by  surprise.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  he  delivered,  from  a 
few  notes,  an  address  occupying  two  hours,  in  which  he  stated  the 
chief  results  arrived  at  by  the  Deputation.  The  substance  of  this 
speech  was  carefully  prepared  for  the  Press  during  a  period  of  leisure 
enforced  on  him  by  his  medical  adviser,  and  which  was  spent  in  the 
Highlands.* 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  June  3rd,  C 'uilchenna. — On  my  fifty-seventh  birthday  (entering  my 
fifty-seventh  birthday),  and  at  Cuilchenna  once  more.  I  am  silent.  This 
is  the  first  personal  and  private  journal  I  have  written  since  my  last  on  the 
previous  page,  the  night  before  I  left  for  India.  What  months  these  have 
been  to  me !  Is  it  all  a  dream — the  voyage  out  with  Watson  and  Lang, 
aad  the  friendly  passengers,  Bombay  and  Poonah,  and  Colgaum  and  Karli, 
the  voyage  to  Calicut,  Madras,  Bangalore,  Vellore,  Conjeveram,  Calcutta, 
Patna,  Allahabad,  Benares,  Cawnpore,  Lucknow,  Agra,  Delhi,  the  Feroze  ? 

"Then  the  remembrance  of  that  meeting  with  my  wife  at  Alexandria, 
and  the  good  Cunliffes,  and  Cairo  and  its  Oriental  glories  ;  the  voyage  to 
Malta,  and  St.  Paul's  Bay  ;  then  Sicily,  Syracuse,  Catania,  railway  to 
Messina,  boat  to  Palermo,  and  the  drive  to  Monreale ;  then  the  horrible 
Carybdie  steamer  to  Naples  ;  Naples  and  Madame  Meuricoffer,  and  the 
Watsons,  and  Dr.  Pincoffs,  and  Amain  ;  Puteoli,  Baipe,  and  Pome  !  with 
Strahan  and  Signor  Garofalihi,  and  all  the  glories.  Home  by  Civita 
Vecchia,  Marseilles,  Paris.  God  be  praised — God  be  praised  !  What  a 
time  of  joy  and  blessing  ! 

"  That  night  I  returned  was  indescribable — so  unreal,  and  yet  so  real. 
Never  was  there  to  me  so  dreamlike  a  thing  as  when  dear  friends,  deacons, 
elders,  and  members  of  my  church  and  working  people  met  me  at  the 
i-ailway,  and  shook  me  by  the  hand.  Spectres  could  not  have  been  more 
unreal.  It  seemed  as  if  it  could  not  be  they,  and  that  I  was  not  myself 
and  home   again.     India   seemed   to  follow  me   up  till  that   moment,  and 

*  Those  portions  of  his  address  which  touch  on  the  general  question  of  missions  are 
given  in  the  Appendix  B,  to  which  the  rea  ler  is  referred  for  the  results  of  his  inqui- 
ries in  India. 


dSO  LIFE   01    NORMAN   MACLEOD. 

Scotland  did  not  seem  real.  The  present  was  not  as  the  past ;  and  then 
the  ever  memorable  supper  in  my  own  house,  with  my  mother  and  aunts, 
and  sisters  and  brothers,  and  children.  What  !  was  I  at  home  ]  Was  I 
alive1?  Had  I  returned]  Perhaps  the  feeling  of  never  returning  to  which  I 
clung,  somehow,  as  necessary  for  my  peace,  made  the  return  the  more  strange 
and  incomprehensible.  I  cannot  describe  the  feeling.  It  was  not  excite- 
ment, but  calm,  dumb,  dream-like  wonder  ! 

"  And  here  I  am  with  a  full  moon  shining  over  Glencoe,  and  all  as  still 
as  the  desert — health  restored,  and  all  spared  ! 

"  O  my  dear  father  !  how  I  thank  and  bless  Thee,  and  record  Thy  good- 
ness.    But  it  is  the  old  story  of  Love! 

"  I  wish  also  to  record  the  marvellous  manner  in  which  my  people 
behaved  in  my  absence.  Everything  went  on  better  than  before  !  Few 
things  have  helped  more  to  bring  about  an  answer  to  many  a  prayer,  that  I 
might  be  enabled  to  love  my  people  with  something  of  that  yearning, 
motherly  feeling,  as  if  to  one's  own  children,  which  St.  Paul  had  in  such 
glorious  perfection.  I  feel  this  strengthening  of  the  cords  between  us  as  a 
great  gift  from  God.      Our  separation  has  done  us  both  good  ! " 

To  Miss  Scott  Moncrieff  : — 

"  Many,  many  thanks  for  your  chit  (I  have  lost  my  native  language).  1 
have  so  much  to  say  to  you  and  to  your  Indian  staff,  that  I  must  be  silent 
till  we  meet.  I  have  verily  had  a  memorable  time  of  it.  God  has  blessed  us 
and  our  work.  I  have  been  wounded  in  the  grand  campaign,  and  the  doc- 
tors say  that  I  must  go  to  hospital  for  months  to  come,  and  that,  to  prevent 
evil,  I  must  be  idle,  as  my  brain  cannot  stand  constant  demands  on  it.  At 
fifty-seven  I  am  not  what  I  was,  but  I  may  do  work  yet  if  I  get  rest.  It 
was  wild  work  in  India  !  Do  you  remember  the  Sunday  controversy,  and 
how  I  was  an  outcast  from  all  good  society  ?  Fancy  me  last  night,  chairman 
by  request  at  a  Free  Kirk  missionary  meeting,  in  a  Free  Kirk,  with  a  Free 
Kirk  lecturer,  and  only  Free  Kirk  ministers  around  me,  and  receiving  Free 
Kirk  thanks  !  I  may  live  to  be  a  Free  Kirk  Moderator  till  the  next  time 
I  am  called  to  stand  alone,  and  then — woe's  me  ! " 

To  A.  Strauan,  Esq.  : — 

"  I  deny  the  canon  of  criticism  by  which  religious  novels  are  condemned. 
It  would  exclude  even  Christ's  teaching  by  parables,  and  would  for  ever 
preclude  me  or  any  minister  from  writing  stories.  'I  stan'  on  the  head  o' 
my  fish  an'  wall  maintain  the  flukes  are  fresh  and  glide,'  as  a  Newhaven 
fish- wife  said  to  me." 


To  his  Mother,  on  his  Birthday  : — 


"  June  3rd. 


"I  am  quite  safe  in  saying  that  I  have  written  to  you,  say  forty  letters, 
on  my  birthday  ;  and  whatever  was  defective  as  to  number  in  my  letters 
was  made  up  by  your  love.  Now  I  begin  to  think  the  whole  affair  is  getting 
stale  to  you.  In  short,  you  anticipate  all  I  can  say,  am  likely  to  say,  or 
ought  to  say;  and  having  done  so,  you  begin  to  read  and  to  laugh  and  cry 
time  about,  and  to  praise  me  I  >  all  my  unfortunate  brothers  and  sisters, 
until  they  detest  me  till  June    Ith.      Don't  you  feel  grateful  I  was  born? 


1868.  381 

Are  fou  not  thankful  1  I  know  you  arc,  and  no  wonder.  T  need  not  enu- 
merate all  those  well-known  personal  and  domestic  virtues  which  have  often 
called  forth  your  praises,  except  when  you  are  beaten  at  backgammon.  But 
there  is  another  side  of  the  question  with  which  I  have  to  do,  and  that  is, 
whether  I  ought  to  be  so  very  grateful  to  you  for  the  event  with  which  June 
3rd,  1812,  is  associated.  As  I  advance  in  life,  this  question  becomes  more 
interesting  to  me ,  and  it  seems  due  to  the  interests  of  truth  and  justice  to 
state  on  this  day,  when  1  have  had  fifty-six  years'  experience  of  life  in  its 
most  varied  forms,  that  I  am  by  no  means  satisfied  with  your  conduct  on  that 
occasion,  and  that  if  you  fairly  consider  it,  1  feel  assured  you  will  justify  me 
in  demanding  from  you  the  only  reparation  possible — an  ample  apology,  and 
a  solemn  promise  never  to  do  the  like  again  !  You  must  acknowledge  that 
you  took  a  very  great  liberty  with  a  man  of  my  character  and  position,  not 
to  ask  me  whether  I  was  disposed  to  enter  upon  a  new  and  important  state  of 
existence  ,  whether  1  should  prefer  winter  or  summer  to  begin  the  trial ;  or 
whether  I  should  be  a  Scotchman,  Irishman,  or  Englishman ;  or  even 
whether  1  should  be  '  man  or  woman  born  ; '  each  of  these  alternatives  in- 
volving to  me  most  important  consequences.  What  a  good  John  Bull  I 
would  have  made  !  what  a  rattling,  roaring  Irishman  !  what  a  capital 
mother  or  wife  !  what  a  jolly  abbess  !  But  you  doomed  me  to  be  born  in  a 
tenth-]  ctte  provincial  town,  half  Scotch,  half  Highland,  and  sealed  my  doom 
as  to  swx  and  country.  Was  that  fair '?  Would  you  like  me  to  have  done 
that  to  you  ?  Suppose  through  my  fault  you  had  been  born  a  wild  Spanish 
papist,  what  would  you  have  said  on  your  fifty-seventh  birthday,  with  all 
your  Irotestant  convictions'?  Not  one  Maxwell  or  Duntroon  related  to 
you  !  you  yourself  a  nun  called  St.  Agnese !  and  all,  forsooth,  because  I 
had  wided  that  you  should  be  born  at  Toledo  on  June  3rd,  1812  !  Think 
of  it,  mother  seriously,  and  say,  have  you  done  to  me  as  you  would  have 
had  nifl  do  to  you  1 

'•'  Then  again,  pray  who  is  to  blame  for  all  I  have  suffered  for  fifty-six 
years  i  Who  but  you  1  This  reply  alone  can  be  made  to  a  thousand  ques- 
tions which  press  themselves  on  my  memory,  until  the  past  seems  a  history 
of  misnry  endured  with  angelic  patience.  Why,  I  might  ask,  for  example, 
did  I  live  for  weeks  on  insipid  'lythings,'  spending  days  and  nights  scream- 
ing, weeping,  hiccoughing,  with  an  old  woman  swathing  and  unswathing 
me,  wnose  nature  retires  from  such  attentions  1  Why  had  I  for  years  to 
learn  to  walk  and  speak,  and  amuse  aunts  and  friends  like  a  young  parish 
fool,  and  wear  frocks — fancy  me  in  a  frock  now,  addressing  the  Assembly  ! 
and  yet  I  had  to  wear  them  for  years  !  Why  have  I  suffered  from  mumps, 
hooping-cough,  measles,  scarlet  fever,  toothache,  headache,  lumbago,  gout, 
sciatica,  sore  back,  sore  legs,  sore  sides,  and  other  ailments ;  having  prob- 
ably sneezed  several  thousand  times,  and  coughed  as  often  since  christened  ? 
Why  ?  Because  I  was  born  !  because  you,  and  none  but  you,  insisted  I 
should  be  born  !  Why  have  I  had  to  be  tossed  about  on  every  sea  and  ocean, 
and  kept  in  perpetual  danger  from  icebergs,  fogs,  storms,  shipwrecks'? 
You  did  it  !  Why  have  I  had  my  mind  distracted,  my  brain  worn,  my 
heart  broken,  my  nerves  torn,  my  frame  exhausted,  my  life  tortured  with 
preachings  and  preparations,  speeches,  lectures,  motions,  resolutions,  pro- 
grammes ;  with  sessions,  presbyteries,  and  assemblies  ;  with  all  Churchas, 
bond  and  free;  with  all  countries  from  west  to  east,  with  good  words  ana 


332  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

cad  words  ;  with  Sunday  questions  and  week-day  questions ;  with  all  sorts 
of  people,  from  Trembling  Jock  to  the  Queen;  with  friends  and  relatione, 
Jews  and  Greeks,  bond  and  free  1  Why  all  this,  and  a  thousand  times 
more,  if  not  simply  and  solely  because,  forsooth,  of  your  conduct  on  June 
3rd,  1812  1  No  wonder  it  is  a  solemn  and  sad  day  to  you!  No  wonder 
you  sigh,  and — unless  all  good  is  out  of  you — weep  too.  I  was  told  my  poor 
father  on  the  day  I  was  born,  hid  himself  in  a  hayrick  from  sheer  anxiety. 
He  had  some  idea  of  what  was  doing.  But,  dear  soul !  he  always  gave  in 
to  ™>iv  "^,1  it  r°  ;,>  vr.ir.  for  either  of  us  to  speak.  I  am  told  I  yelled  very 
loud — I  hope  I  did — I  could  do  no  more  then  ;  and  I  can  do  little  more  now 
than  protest,  as  I  do,  against  the  whole  arrangement. 

"  An  American  expressed  to  a  friend  of  mine  a  great  desire  to  visit  Siam, 
as  he  understood  its  people  were  all  twins  !  The  thought  makes  me  tremble. 
What  if  I  had  been  born  like  the  Siamese  twins  !  Think  of  my  twin  brother 
and  myself  going  as  a  deputy  to  India  :  in  the  same  berth,  speaking  together 
at  the  same  meeting,  sick  together  at  sea,  or  both  suffering  from  gout,  and 
you  concerned  and  anxious  about  your  poor  dear  boys  !  What,  supposing 
my  twin  had  married  Mrs.  1 

"  Mother  dear,  repent ! 

"  One  good  quality  remains  :  I  can  forgive,  and  I  do  forgive  you  this 
day,  in  pledge  of  which  I  send  you  my  love,  big  as  my  body,  yea  without 
limit,  as  large  a  kiss  as  my  beard  and  moustache  will  permit. 

"  This  is  a  glorious  Highland  day  !  What  delicious  air  !  It  blows  and 
rains,  and  is  as  bitterly  cold  as  the  most  ardent  Celt  could  desire. 

"  The  amusing  prattle  of  eight  children  in  the  house,  craving  for  excite- 
ment, with  nothing  to  do,  is  truly  soothing,  and  acts  as  balm  to  my  nervous 
system.  The  sail  yesterday  was  charming,  and  the  canal  boat  with  a  cram- 
med cabin  and  heavy  rain,  was  too  delightful  for  a  gouty  world. 

"  Glencoe,  if  you  could  see  it  through  this  thick  rain,  is  grand,  and  the 
rattling  of  the  windows  from  the  wind  quite  musical.  I  am  trying  to  cure 
my  gput  by  walking  in  wet  grass,  so  keep  your  mind  easy  1" 

To  A.  Stkahan,  Esq.  :— 

"Friday. 

"  I  send,  for  yourself  only,  the  enclosed  hints  from .     Now  you  know 

the  real  love  that  he  has  to  us  personally,  and  to  G.  W.  I  therefore  value 
such  hints,  though  I  confess  that  I  do  not  know  to  what  he  alludes.  But  to 
guard  against  the  possibility  of  a  single  expression  being  printed  by  us 
which  the  weakest  Christian  could  be  pained  by,  I  beseech  you  to  let  me  see 
every  MS.  or  proof  before  being  printed  off.  I,  as  a  minister,  am  more  con- 
versant than  you  can  be  with  religious  topics  aiid  the  pulse  of  the  religious 
world.  Besides,  as  you  also  know,  my  chief  delight  in  Good  Words  is  its 
power  of  doing  good.  Cod  knows  this  is  more  precious  to  me  than  all  the 
gold  and  silver  on  earth  could  be." 

To  Miss  Scott  MoNcaiEFF  : — 

"The  past  and  the  future  seem  to  me  to  become  every  clay  more  vivid, 
while  the  more  immediate  point  is  more  confused  and  vanishing.  The  old 
home  in  Dalkeith  Bark  is  never  empty,  but  always  full  to  me  with  people 
who  are  always  happy,  and  can  never  die.    So  are  other  houses  of  my  friends. 


18G8  383 

Thank  God  for  memory  and  for  liopo  !  When  these  earthly  houses  are  dis- 
covered by  us  at  last  to  be  empty,  and  all  our  thoughts  about  them  dreams, 
then  at  the  same  moment  we  shall  also  discover  that  another  home  is  inhabit- 
ed by  the  same  dear  friends,  and  that  our  di  earns  cease  only  when  we  have 
awoke  to  and  met  with  realities.  My  dear  Norman  has  left  us  this  morning 
to  begin  commercial  life  in  Liverpool.  He,  and  two  of  his  sisters,  joined  us 
on  Tuesday  at  our  winter  communion,  but  as  I  entered  his  bed-room  after 
he  was  gone  it  was  very  dream-like — 'In  deaths  oft.'  " 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Sunday,  July  19. — What  are  called  innocent  enjoyments,  with  much 
which  makes  up  and  adds  to  the  happiness  of  life  —  poetry,  painting, 
smiles,  and  laughter,  the  sallies  of  playful  wit,  or  the  quiet  chuckle,  the 
delightful  emotions— half  smiles,  half  tears, — created  by  humour,  the  family 
fun  in  summer  evenings  in  the  open  air — all  that  kind  of  life  which  we  enjoy 
and  remember  with  such  enjoyment  (albeit  mingled  with  sadness,  not  for 
what  it  was,  but  because  it  is  not) — why  is  this  not  associated  in  our  minds 
with  saintship  and  holiness '?  Is  it  because  those  who  are  not  holy  possess  it 
all  1  Yet  this  would  only  prove  the  liberality  of  God,  and  not  the  sinfulness 
of  man — or  any  inconsistency  in  saints  partaking  of  it.  Is  it  that  such 
happiness  is  sin '?  This  cannot  be.  It  would  be  a  libel  on  all  our  instincts 
and  feelings  and  the  whole  round  of  life  as  appointed  by  God.  Is  it  that  we 
have  formed  wrong  ideas  of  saintship,  and  created,  as  in  mediaeval  art,  such 
notions  as  would  make  saintship  impossible,  or  utterly  outre  and  grotesque 
in  the  Exchange,  or  behind  the  counter,  or  on  a  Railway  Board,  or  com- 
mittee of  Parliament  1  Yet  it  is  in  such  places  we  need  saints  most.  Or  is 
it  that  we  make  such  men  as  the  apostles  examples  of  what  all  men  should 
be,  and  thence  conclude  that  if  so,  the  life  I  have  alluded  to  must  be  wrong, 
earthly,  and  unworthy  of  men,  as  it  could  not  be  theirs  1  But,  again,  I  look 
at  the  flowers  Christ  has  made,  and  listen  to  His  singing  birds,  whose  bills* 
and  throats,  and  instincts  He  has  made,  and  con  over  all  the  gay  and  beau- 
tiful 'trifles'  He  has  attended  to  as  the  Maker  of  the  world,  and  which  He 
called  very  good,  and  in  which  He  has  pleasure,  and  so  the  'methodistical' 
view  of  life  does  not  hold.  But  may  not  a  life  in  harmony  with  this,  in 
which  the  small  flowers,  and  the  small  singing  birds,  and  the  perfumes,  and 
the  lights  and  shadows  and  sparkling  waves,  shall  hold  their  own  with  the 
great  mountains  and  mighty  oceans,  and  intellectual  and  moral  harmonies 
among  God's  great  beings,  be  the  normal  state  of  things,  and  be  reproduced 
in  the  new  heavens  and  the  new  earth]  The  sorrows  and  sadness  of  Christ 
and  of  men  like  St.  Paul  would  thus  be  abnormal,  conditioned  by  the  evil  of 
sin.  They  would  be  as  the  sadness  of  a  family  because  of  a  death  and  burial, 
but  which  was  not  their  natural  condition.  The  world's  greatest  men,  in 
God's  sense,  God's  own  elect  ones,  the  kings  and  princes  of  humanity,  are 
thus  necessarily  the  greatest  sufferers.  It  is  given  them  to  '  suffer  with 
Christ '  as  the  highest  honour,  for  it  is  the  honour  and  glory  of  seeing  things 
as  they  are  in  the  true  and  eternal  light  which  no  mere  man  can  see  and  live. 
Put  such  men  must  die  and  be  buried  in  the  grave  of  sorrow,  crucified  by 
the  world's  sin. 

"  Yet  let  this  occasion  of  sorrow  be  taken  away,  and  why  might  not  a  St. 
Paul  be  a  child  again,  and  chase  butterflies,  gather  flowers,  and  shout  with 


384  LIFE  OF  KOtiMAN  MACLEOD. 

joy  among  the  heather  1  It  is  a  great  gift  to  be  able  to  be  happy  at  all,  and 
sse,  however  dimly,  into  life  and  death.  Those  who  imitate  these  holy  men 
only  in  their  sadness  and  sorrow,  practise  a  vain  guise,  like  a  mask,  and 
fancy  the  signs  of  grief  or  grief  itself  to  be  a  virtue,  and  not  a  misfortune, 
and  glorious  only  as  a  sign  of  an  inner  love — the  light  which  casts  the 
shadow.  Those  who  seek  happiness  for  its  own  sake  and  call  it  innocent, 
and  think  it  lawful  without  the  eternal  good,  are  vain  as  larks  who  would 
live  only  for  singing,  and  silly  as  flowers  who  see  nothing  in  creation  but 
their  own  colours,  and  perceive  nothing  but  their  own  perfume. 

"  A  mountain  once  rebuked  a.  rivulet  for  always  foaming  and  making  a 
noise.  The  livulet  replied  that  the  ocean  often  did  the  same.  '  Yes,'  said 
the  mountain,  'but  the  ocean  has  its  depths  and  calms:  you  have  neither."' 


"  SUBJECTS    FOR    SONNETS    SUGGESTED    IN    MY    WALK. 

"  Cuilchenna,  July  21. — The  scenes  of  peace  and  beauty  in  Nature,  re- 
sulting from  the  great  cataclysms  of  the  past ;  paralleled  by  the  peace  in  the 
world  and  in  the  soul  from  the  anguish  of  suffering. 

2. 

"  The  force  of  gravitation  overcoming  the  storm  and  waves  in  carrying 
t:ny  bubbles  out  into  the  ebb  tide  ;  paralleled  by  the  power  of  faith  in  the 
unseen,  in  those  otherwise  weak,  as  a  power  striving  against  and  conquering 
apparently  irresistible  opposition. 


"  The  light,  reflected  by  clouds,  climbing  a  mountain  side,  illustrative  of 
a  pure  mind  rising  over  mighty  heights  of  thought,  and  revealing  their 
beauties." 


"  I  see  a  field,  one  half  is  tilled 
And  may  give  something  to  the  baker  ; 

"With  weeds  the  other  half  is  filled, 
Not  worth  a  halfpenny  per  acre. 

"I  won't  admit  that  field  is  good 
Because  some  good  things  giow  within  it- 

I  say  'tis  had  for  human  food, 

And  getting  worse,  too,  every  minute. 

"  The  owner  of  it  is  so  lazy, 
Yet  most  contented  and  pretentious, 

His  sense  of  duty  very  h.izy, 
Aud  yet  so  very  conscientious. 

" He  savs  'he  likes '  one  half  to  till, 

lie  'likes'  what  gives  him  little  tiouble, 

He  hkcs  to  fdlow  his  own  will, 

lie  likes  in  short  to  quirk  and  quibhl<». 


18(58.  385 


"And  now  as  I  have  told  my  mind 
About  onesided  plough  and  harrow, 

The  lesson  is, — I  never  find 

Men  vciy  good  and  very  narrow. 

"  One  half  their  lazy  minds  they  till, 
The  other  half  is  always  weedy  ; 

They  worship  idols,  do  their  will, 
Are  often  wicked — always  seedy  !" 


To  the  Rev.  Dr.  Watson  : — 

"Cuilchisnn^. 

"  It  is  very  difficult  for  me  to  write  at  present,  as  a  nervous  headache  sots 
in  always  in  half  an  hour,  so  that  it  is  impossible  to  write.  It  goes  off  ten 
minutes  after  I  stop,  so  that  I  can  get  on  by  fits  and  starts  only. 

"  You  must  come  soon  again.     I  am  wearying  to  have  a  talk  in  Sanscrit. 

"  '  He  who  talketh  Sanscrit  talketh  like  a  man,  but  he  who  talketh  never 
(like  me)  is  dumb.' — Hindoo  Proverb. 

"  '  He  who  is  choked  can  never  be  hancred.' — Hindoo  Proverb. 

"  '  Heartburnings  cause  sourness,  and  sourness  is  never  sweet.' — A  Scotti- 
cism. 

"  My  head  gets  so  sore  when  I  try  to  write." 

To  the  Same  : — 

"  If  we  could  only  get  half  a  dozen  truly  able  and  enlightened  Christian 
native  preachers,  they  would  soon  settle  a  creed  for  themselves.  When 
we  get  freedom  at  home  as  to  the  subscription  of  articles,  we  shall  be  better 
able  to  work  freely  in  India.  The  chief  difficulty  in  the  way  of  advancing 
Christianity  in  India  is,  unquestionably,  that  almost  all  the  missionaries 
represent  a  narrow,  one-sided  Christianity." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"Glasgow,  Wednesday. 

"  I  think  this  fit  of  sciatica  is  past.  I  had  a  queer  night  of  it,  between 
pain  and  sleeplessness. 

"I  employed  part  of  my  idle  time  after  midnight  in  arranging  the  draw- 
ing-room. You  would  have  laughed  at  me,  as  I  did.  But  I  could  find  no 
rest  with  that  horrid  neuralgia.     It  is  gone  to-day." 

"Friday. 

'■'  I  got  sleep  from  seven  to  ten  this  morning,  and  I  feel  better  than 
I  have  done  for  weeks.  In  short,  after  this  I  shall  have  a  lease  of  good 
health. 

"  Kiss  Cuilchenna  for  me. 

"  In  the  meantime,  '  Good-night ! '  " 

To  Mr.  Simpson,  of  Messrs.  Blackwood  &  Sons,  Publishers  : — 

"  Cuilchenna,  August  24. 

"  I  send  you  the  last  and  concluding  pages  of  my  MS.  The  facts  seems 
to  me  incredible,  but  it  is  true.  I  breathe  more  freely.  My  soul  could 
transmigrate  into  Svo.,  and  lie  for  ages  in  a  minister's  library,  unread  and 

25 


386  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

uncut  like  his  own  volume  of  sermons.  Open  the  parcel,  gently  and  rever- 
ently ;  '  there  is  a  spirit  in  the  leaves,'  but  one  which  your  devils  alone  can 
comprehend.  By  the  way,  it  may  strike  you  that  I  say  nothing  against  the 
devil-worship,  so  common  among  the  aborigines  of  India.  The  fact  is  that 
I  respect  it  more  than  any  other  form  of  heathenism.  Its  origin  is  literary. 
I  have  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  original  printers  of  the  Vedas  had  some 
shocking  MS.  of  Ram,  or  Kerishnu,  or  Dasaratha,  or  Ikshwaku,  or  Vishnu, 
to  print,  and  they  manifested  such  genius  in  deciphering  it,  such  patience 
in  printing  it,  such  meekness  in  correcting  it,  that  they  became  objects  of 
worship.  The  '  Devil  Dance '  evidently  originated  in  the  joy  witnessed 
among  the  printers  when  the  MS.  of  the  Rainayana  or  Manabharat  was 
finally  printed.  I  respect  therefore  all  these  types  of  the  devils  who  lived 
in  the  days  of  Noah.  They  may  have  been  the  '  regular  bricks  '  of  Babylon, 
with  their  printed  sides. 

"  The  great  Sancrit  scholar,  Dr.  Muir,  must  know  all  about  it.  Was  the 
corrector  of  the  press  originally  the  corrector  of  morals  1 " 

To  the  Same : — 

"  I  should  like  to  see  final  proof  of  that  address. 

"  '  To  fight  the  battle  of  Waterloo,'  remarked  the  Duke,  with  whom  I 
humbly  but  firmly  compare  myself,  '  was  nothing.  But  to  reply  to  letters, 
criticisms,  &c,  upon  it,  that  was  the  work  of  real  pain  and  difficulty.' 

"  The  Duke,  I  feel,  was  right ;  but  what  was  his  work  to  mine  1 

"  He  got  Water  loo*     111  get  water  hot." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  Cuilchenna,  Sept.  1. — This  day  ends  my  rest  since  I  returned  from 
India.  I  cannot  tell  what  these  months  have  been  to  me  of  quiet  repose,  of 
health  almost  restored,  of  blessed  family  life. 

"  I  have  not  been  idle,  in  the  sense  of  doing  nothing  but  amusing  myself. 
I  have  hardly  been  a  Sunday  without  preaching  somewhei'e ;  once  on  the 
green,  four  times  at  Ballachulish,  twice  at  Kilmallie,  and  once  at  Fort 
William.  Above  all  I  began  and  finished  here  my  '  Address  on  Missions,' 
which  has  occupied  more  of  my  thoughts,  and  given  me  more  trouble  than 
anything  I  ever  did.  I  have  also  written  a  chapter  on  '  Teeps  at  the  Far 
East,'  and  a  preface  on  the  '  Characteristics  of  Highland  Scenery,'  for  a 
Book  of  Photographs  illustrative  of  the  Queen's  book,  with  some  songs,  and 
letters  innumerable,  besides  preaching  twice  at  home  and  attending  all  the 
meetings  of  the  India  Mission  Committee. 

"And  then  we  had  our  evening  readings  from  Shakespeare,  or  some  other 
worthy  book,  and  delightful  croquet,  and  such  evenings  at  fishing !  never  to 
be  forgotten  for  their  surpassing  glory ;  and  two  happy  visits  from  dear 
Watson,  one  of  them  with  Clark  of  Gyah.  It  has  been  a  heavenly  time, 
for  which  with  heart,  soul,  and  strength  I  thank  C4od. 

"  India,  how  dreamlike  !  " 

"We  need  not  build  memorial  cairns, 
Ah  no,  my  wife,  1  cannot  do  it ; 
For  should  we  do  so  with  ilie  bairns, 
Some  day,  my  luve,  we'ie  sun:  to  rue  it. 

'  "jlice,  lukewarm. 


L8G8.  387 

"If  each  dear  hand  lays  down  the  stone 
Willi  love  to  all  around  to  guide  it, 
Oli,  who  of  us  could  come  aloue 

In  alter  years,  and  Stand  beside  it  ? 

"There's  not  a  spot  around  tins  place, 

There's  not  a  mountain,  glen,  or  liver, 
But  shall  recall  each  dear  one's  lace, 
And  memories  that  perish  never. 

"  On  every  hill-top  we  might  raise 

A  'holy  rood,'  though  I  would  rather 
"We  gave  upon  it  daily  praise 

To  Him  who  is  indeed  our  Father. 

"Tins  time  of  joy  in  this  dear  place, 

This  Salihath  rest— to  Him  we  owe  it, 
And  not  the  least  gift  of  His  grace 

That  both  of  us  have  learned  to  know  it. " 

"  A  word  about  politics.  As  to  the  Irish  Establish  merit,  I  am  on  this 
point  out  and  out  for  Gladstone.  A  nation  must  choose  its  own  Chmch, 
and  for  all  such  practical  purposes  Ireland  is  as  much  an  individuality  as 
India.  No  idea  can  be  right  which  practically  is  so  offensive  to  common 
sense  and  to  fair  play  as  the  Irish  Establishment.  Had  the  rest  of  Britain 
been  Roman  Catholic,  how  should  we  Presbyterians  have  liked  the  Estab- 
lishment of  a  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  Scotland,  with  two  millions  of 
Presbyterians  and  one  million  of  Roman  Catholics'?  We  drove  out  the 
Episcopal  Protestant  Church  when  it  was  out  of  harmony  with  the  mind  of 
the  nation.  To  square  the  Protestant  Establishment  with  Protestants  won't 
do.  It  is  an  offence  as  a  privileged  Church  to  those  subjects  who  do  not 
believe  in  its  teaching,  and  to  whom  it  is  no  Church  at  all.  If  the  Church 
of  Scotland  is  in  the  same  condition,  which  I  deny,  let  it  go.  Justice  must 
be  done.  The  age  of  selfish  monopolies  of  every  kind  is  gone.  Let  it  go. 
Christianity  implies  a  giving  all  we  can,  a  sharing  all  possible  good  with 
others.  To  fear  Romanism  !  I  am  ashamed.  Having  ceased  long  ago  to 
fear  the  devil,  I  can  be  frightened  by  nothing  more.  No  evil  need  be 
feared,  so  long  as  good  is  loved.  All  evil  is  doomed ;  God  is  on  the  side  of 
truth  alone. 

"  All  true  politics  should  be  in  the  line  of  making  all  the  good  possessed 
by  the  nation  or  in  the  nation,  as  much  as  possible  a  common  good.  No 
institution  can  be  righteously  defended  unless  it  can  be  proved  to  benefit  the 
country  more  than  its  destruction  could  do." 

To  Rev.  Dr.  Watson  : — 

"  Cuilcuenna,  Septemler,  1868. 

"  There  is  nothing  I  believe  more  firmly  than  that  what  is  needed  is 
that  a  man  seek  to  know,  believe,  and  act  out  the  truth  as  he  best  can ;  and 
I  rejoice  in  the  thought  that  thus  the  great  stones  which  build  up  the  mighty 
Temple  are  cemented  by  thin  layers,  unseen  by  human  eye,  of  ten  thousand 
times  ten  thousand  unknown  but  great,  because  humble,  men  and  women. 

"  lily  highest  ambition  ought  to  be,  and  in  a  feeble  sense  is,  to  be  a  hum- 
ble man,  which  I  am  not.  Although,  being  not  so,  I  would  not  like  you  to 
agree  with  me  !     I  hope,  however,  by  the  grace  of  God,  to  be  able  at  last  to 


388  LIFE  OF  NORMA X  MACLEOD. 

creep  into  a  door-keeper's  place  in  the  house  of  God,  or  to  be  among  the 
lowest  guests  in  the  lowest  room.  '  It  will  wonder  me,'  as  the  Germans  say, 
should  it  be  so  in  the  end." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  :  — 

"  Abergeldie,  September  14,  1808. 

"  I  am  much  the  better  for  this  trip.  The  air  is  cold  and  bracing.  No 
strangers.     All  most  kind.     The  Duke  of  Edinburgh  is  here. 

"I  preached  happily.  The  Prince  spoke  to  me  about  preaching  only 
twenty  minutes.  I  told  him  I  was  a  Thomas  a  Becket,  and  would  resist  the 
interference  of  the  State,  and  that  neither  he  nor  any  of  the  party  had  any- 
thing better  to  do  than  hear  me.  So  I  preached  for  forty-seven  minutes, 
and  they  were  kind  enough  to  say  they  wished  it  had  been  longer. 

"  The  Prince's  whole  views  as  to  his  duty  to  Scotland  and  Ireland  as  well 
as  England,  were  very  high.  He  spoke  most  kindly  and  wisely  of  Ireland, 
and  seems  determined  to  run  all  risks  (as  he  did)  to  do  his  duty  to  her." 

From  his  Journal: 

"  The  Moderatorship  has  been  offered  me  by  the  Old  Moderators,  and  I 
at  first,  by  word  and  letter,  out  and  out  refused  it.  I  did  so  chiefly  on  the 
ground  of  my  desire  for  freedom  in  the  expression  of  my  personal  opinions, 
without  involving  the  Church  as  its  repi'esentative,  and  as  also  a  writer  of 
whims,  crotchets,  songs  and  stories,  and  the  editor  of  Good  Words.  But  it 
was  strongly  represented  to  me  by  old  Moderators  that  I  ought  and  must 
accept — that  it  was  a  duty  to  accept,  which  is  a  very  different  thing  from  a 
mere  compliment.  Well,  they  know  all  about  me,  and  the  worst  about  me, 
and  if,  knowing  this,  they  like  to  take  me,  it  is  their  own  look-out.  I  was 
free  to  accept  it,  which  I  latterly  did,  feeling  very  much  the  generosity  of 
the  Church  in  so  acting  to  me.  I  feel  that  I  won't  betray  them,  as  I  have 
no  object  but  the  good  of  my  dear  Church,  and,  if  possible,  my  still  dearer 
country." 

"  Nov.  24. — My  family  left  Cuilchenna  at  the  end  of  September.  I  was 
obliged  to  leave  sooner,  and  felt  as  stiff  and  gouty  at  the  end  as  the  begin- 
ning." 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

MODERATORSIIIP   AND    PATRONAGE. 

1869—70. 

HIS  unanimous  election  by  the  General  Assembly  of  1869  to  the 
dignity  of  Moderator  gave  him  no  ordinary  satisfaction.  The 
event  was  gratifying  in  itself;  but  it  was  specially  valued  as  a  token 
of  the  liberality  of  the  Church,  which  could  bestow  such  an  honour  on 
one  who  had  so  recently  fought  for  freedom  at  the  risk  of  losing  his 
ministerial  position,  and  was  highly  appreciated  as  a  mark  of  confi- 
dence in  his  personal  loyalty  and  attachment  to  the  Church. 

From  his  Journal  :  — 

"  April  8th. — It  is  a  deep  working  out  of  love  to  say  or  do  from  true  love 
that  which  may  cause  the  object  of  love  to  manifest  hate  to  us  and  yet  to 
love  him  in  spite  of  his  hate. 

"  How  wonderful  is  the  love  which  can  discern  and  accept  of  the  love  of 
God  revealed  in  and  by  deepest  suffering,  and  which  rejoices  in  the  love  in 
spite  of  the  suffering  1  '  He  took  the  cup'  and  '  took  the  bread,'  symbols  of 
a  broken  body  and  shed  blood,  and  '  gave  thanks  /' 

"  Love  is  the  only  way  along  which  the  whole  world  may  reach  greatness. 
The  proud  despise  it  as  too  common  and  vulgar.  They  prefer  to  reach  it  by 
way  of  genius  or  talent. 

",  ,  .  See  clearly  what  you  wish.  Sincerely  desire  that  others  should 
see  it  also  and  seek  it.  Help  to  bring  them  into  this  mind  by  perfect  truth 
and  candour,  patience,  meekness,  respect  and  tender  consideration  for  their 
feelings  and  their  prejudices.  Never  despair,  and  believing  in  God  and  His 
good-will  to  man,  be  sure  that  the  right  will  come  right. 

'•'  Deal  with  others  as  God  deals  with  you,  and  all  will  be  done  with  truth 
and  charity  and  patience.  Want  of  candour  and  want  of  confidence  in  our 
fellow-men  binder  and  weaken  us. 

"  I  believe  wo  would  always  gain  right  ends  sooner,  whether  political  or 
ecclesiastical,  if  we  openly  declared  what  we  wanted,  and  made  no  mystci  y 
of  it.  Wrong  alone  fears  the  light.  '  Policy,'  in  most  cases,  if  not  in  all, 
belongs  to  the  devil  and  darkness.  It  creates  the  very  suspicions  which  it 
endeavours  to  conquer.'' 

To  A.  Strahan,  Esq. : — 

"SlIANDON. 

"  I  have  come  here  for  a  quiet  day's  work.  I  send  you  a  morsel  to  keep 
your  printer's  devils  going.     I  shall  send  as  much  move  to-morrow." 


390  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

From  his  Journal  : — 

" May  ISth,  Tuesday. — I  record  my  gratitude  to  God  for  the  quiet  and 
comparatively  unbroken  fortnight  I  have  had,  and  the  measure  of  good 
health  also  given  me,  and  the  peace  of  mind  to  prepare  my  long  address  for 
the  Assembly.  I  go  to-morrow  to  reach  the  highest  point  in  my  public  life. 
My  mother,  dear  one  !  wife  and  nine  children,  aunts,  brothers,  sisters, 
nephews,  and  nieces,  and  troops  of  friends  to  be  with  me.  What  a  height 
of  mercy  !  Oh,  may  this  be  a  talent  used  lovingly,  humbly,  and  xinselfishly 
for  His  glory  !     Such  is  my  earnest  desire." 

In  giving  the  customary  address  at  the  close  of  the  Assembly,  he 
took  the  opportunity  of  uttering  his  convictions  on  several  important 
matters  of  ecclesiastical  policy.  Among  other  points  lie  noticed  certain 
characteristics  of  the  age  of  which  he  thought  account  should  lie  taken 
by  the  Church. 

"  1. — The  age  in  which  we  live  is  one  of  searching  inquiry  in  regard  to 
truth.  We  do  not  complain  of  this ;  for  however  perverted  the  spirit  may 
sometimes  become,  and  however  much  it  may  manifest  mere  discontent  with 
things  as  they  are,  yet  the  spirit  itself  in  its  essence  is  good,  and  should  be 
hailed  by  all  who  love  the  true  and  the  right  for  their  own  sakes,  be  the 
consequences  to  themselves  what  they  may. 

"2. — Another  characteristic  of  our  time  may  be  described  as  a  jealousy 
of  all  monopolies,  of  all  privileges  which  would  secure  good  to  the  few,  at 
the  expense,  directly  or  indirectly,  of  the  many.  And  this  is  being  applied 
to  existing  Church  Establishments.  Treaties  of  union,  Acts  of  Parliament, 
and  the  like,  however  invaluable  they  may  be,  even  as  means  of  securing 
time  for  discussion,  or  as  affording  the  strongest  possible  grounds  for  a  patient 
and  considerate  policy,  must  ultimately  yield  to  the  prime  question  of  poli- 
tical justice  as  decided  by  a  national  jury.  The  country  will  determine, 
wisely  or  unwisely,  what  it  deems  best,  not  for  this  or  that  class,  this  or 
that  denomination,  but  for  the  general  good.  And  I  might  add,  that  estab- 
lishments of  religion  are  henceforth  likely  to  be  dealt  with,  not  according  to 
an  imperial  policy  which  recognizes  the  unity  of  the  State,  but  with  refer- 
ence to  the  wants  and  expressed  wishes  of  each  separate  nationality,  so  to 
speak,  -whether  of  Scotland,  England,  or  Ireland,  in  which  they  respectively 
exist.  On  this  principle  the  Church  of  Ireland  has  been  dealt  with,  not  as 
an  Establishment  connected  with  the  Church  of  England,  far  less1  as  con- 
nected with  the  Establishment  of  Scotland,  but  merely  with  reference  to  its 
suitableness  for  Ireland,  as  determined  by  its  past  history,  present  position, 
and  future  pi'ospects.  And  thus,  too,  must  the  Churches  of  Scotland  and 
England  in  the  long-run  be  tried,  each  on  its  own  merits,  each  according  to 
its  adaptation  to  the  religious  wants  of  the  country  in  which  it  exists.  Now 
this  is  a  principle  of  which  national  Churches  should  not  complain,  inas- 
much as  their  power  and  efficiency  are  inseparable  from  the  fact  of  their 
being  acceptable  to  the  nation  as  a  whole.  If  by  any  fault  of  theirs  they 
lose  the  confidence  of  the  nation,  or  fail  to  recover  it  after  a  fair  trial,  their 
continuance  is  more  than  imperilled,  seeing  that  they  exist  for  the  nation, 
and  not  the  nation  for  them. 


MODERATORSHIP  AND   PATRONAGE.  391 

''  For  myself,''  he  said,  in  reference  to  the  question  of  Subscription,  "  I 
confess  that  I  do  not  soe  how  the  Church  of  Christ,  or  any  section  of  it,  as  a 
society  professedly  founded  on  the  teaching  of  Christ  and  His  apostles,  and 
having  a  history  since  the  day  of  Pentecost,  can  exist  without  a  creed  ex- 
pressed or  administered  in  some  form  or  other.  As  far  as  I  know,  the 
Church  has  always  had  some  test  for  the  doctrinal  beliefs  of  its  teachers  and 
members,  or  for  their  beliefs  of  the  historic  facts  of  the  New  Testament 
winch  constitute  the  basis  of  objective  Christianity.*  Moreover,  the 
theory  held  by  us,  as  an  Established  Church,  implies  that  the  State  ought 
to  know  what  are  the  doctrines  professed  by  the  Church  which  it  proposes 
to  establish.  Hence  those  doctrines  when  mutually  agreed  upon,  become 
the  law  at  once  of  the  Church  and  of  the  State. 

"  What  therefore  in  these  circumstances  can  be  done  by  our  National 
Church  1  Shall  we,  for  example,  compel  every  minister  under  pain  of  dis- 
missal, or  of  incurring  charges  of  dishonesty,  to  accept  every  statment,  every 
alleged  fact,  every  argument  for  doctrine,  and  deduction  from  doctrine,  and 
proof  of  doctrine  to  be  found  in  the  Confession1?  Is  this  what  the  Church 
really  means  before  God  when  it  uses  the  formula  1  And  do  we  practically 
make  no  distinction  between  those  things  on  which  Christians,  the  most 
learned  and  the  most  holy,  may  and  do  differ  in  all  Evangelical  churches, 
and  those  doctrines  on  which,  as  a  whole,  all  are  at  one  1  Possibly  we  may 
obtain  honest  agreement  in  minute  details,  but  I  fear  it  will  only  be  on  the 
part  of  the  very  few,  of  the  very  ignorant,  thus  necessarily  creating  the 
dead  unity  of  a  churchyard,  rather  than  the  living  unity  of  a  Church,  and 
fostering  a  faith  like  that  of  Romanists,  which  rests  practically  upon  the 
mere  Church  authority.  It  appears  to  me  that  the  quantity  or  quality  of 
any  confession  to  those  who  thus  receive  it,  is  of  no  more  importance  than 
the  quantity  or  quality  of  food  is  to  a  man  who  only  carries  it,  but  does  not 
eat  it.  But  on  the  other  hand  is  it  possible  without  running  still  greater 
risks  for  a  Church  to  give  official  permission  to  any  office-bearer  to  make 
this  distinction  between  Essentials  and  Non-Essentials  1  Then  where  is 
the  line  to  be  drawn  1  And  what  value  would  there  be  in  this  case  in  any 
Confession  at  all?  Might  not  the  most  dangerous  and  Anti-Christian 
opinions  be  preached  in  our  pulpits,  and  the  result  be  that  to  include  scep- 
tics we  practically  exclude  true  believers  1  It  is  so  much  easier  for  some 
to  sneer  at  creeds  altogether,  and  for  others  to  raise  a  cry  of  horror  as  if 
God's  Word  was  attacked  when  a  doubt  regarding  them  is  expressed,  than 
for  both  parties  to  carry  the  burthen  of  fair  and  candid  men,  seriously  con- 
sidering the  difficulty  and  suggesting  such  a  solution  of  it  as  may  satisfy  our 
sense  of  truth  in  regard  to  ourselves,  and  our  sense  of  justice  and  charity 
towards  others. 

"  And  now  let  me  ask  with  unfeigned  humility  and  with  a  full  sense  of 
the  difficulties  which  I  have  indicated,  whether  a  practical  solution,  if  not  a 
logical  one.  may  not,  on  the  one  hand,  be  found  in  common  sense  and 
spiritual  tact  and  Christian  honour  on  the  part  of  those  who,  with  doubts 
and  difficulties,  desire  to  enter  or  to  remain  in  tiie  Church,  and  that  from  no 
selfish  motive ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  by  the  exercise  of  those  same  gifts 
and  graces  towards  such  individuals  on  the  part  of  the  Church  1  The 
minister  can  thus  easily  determine  for  himself  how  far  he  honestly  agrees 

*  John  ii.  10,  11  ;  1  John  iv.  1  ;  2  Peter  ii.  1  ;   1  Cor.  xv.  8. 


392  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

■with  the  teaching  and  doctrine  of  the  Church,  or  cordially  accepts  it  as  that 
which  has  been  recognised  as  constituting  the  essentials  of  Christianity  by 
the  "whole  Catholic  Church  from  the  days  of  the  Apostles ;  while  the  Church, 
retaining  her  power  to  exercise  discipline  in  every  case  of  departure  from 
the  Confession,  may  also  exercise  due  caution,  charity,  and  foibeaiance." 

The  Dean  of  Westminster,  who  was  present  at  several  meetings  ot 
the  General  Assembly,  afterwards  addressed  the  following  letter  to 
Dr.  Macleod  as  Moderator  : — 

From  Dean  Stanley  : — 

"Deanery,  Westminster. 

"My  dear  Moderator, 

"  I  was  obliged  to  leave  in  such  haste  on  Friday,  as  to  have  had  no 
time  to  thank  you  for  the  great  kindness  of  the  past  week. 

"  It  was  a  sincere  grief  and  disappointment  to  me  not  to  be  able  to  he 
present  to-day  to  hear  your  address,  and  to-morrow  to  assist  at  your  dinner. 
Nothing  but  the  call  of  imperative  engagements  here  would  have  prevented 
it. 

"  Meanwhile  I  have  had  the  very  great  pleasure  and  profit  of  having 
become  acquainted,  by  personal  intercourse,  with  your  famous  Assembly, 
and  with  the  established  organ  of  the  Church  of  Scotland. 

"  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  believe  that  an  institution  so  represented  is 
doomed  to  fall,  or  that  the  Scottish  people  will  consent  to  the  overthrow  of  a 
body  which  gives  such  pledges  of  dignity  and  progress  to  the  whole  country. 

"  If  at  your  dinner  you  should  think  it  worth  while  to  refer  to  this 
humble  expression  of  regard  from  a  Presbyter  of  the  sister  Church,  pray  con- 
sider yourself  af  liberty  to  do  so. 

"Yours  sincerely, 

"A.  P.  Stanley." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"Bird's  Bay  House,  2nd  August,  1889. 

"  The  Moderatorship  was  a  time  of  great  peace  of  heart.  There  was  no 
contretemps  of  any  kind.  The  house  was  very  full,  and  every  one  was  kind. 
Dean  Stanley  attended  our  Assembly,  and  visited  the  Free  Church  one  also. 
He  lived  in  the  same  hotel  as  we  did.  My  address,  which  occupied  two 
hours,  was  delivered  to  a  crowded  house,  and  was  kindly  accepted.  It  has 
•since  been  published. 

''After  the  Assembly,  on  the  following  Sunday  I  went  to  Balmoral  ;  and 
at  the  end  of  June  went  with  the  Anti- Patronage  Committee  to  London. 
The  Scotch  Members  gave  us  a  dinner.  Had  an  interview  with  Gladstone, 
accompanied  by  twenty-seven  M.P.'s.  It  was  my  own  decided  opinion  that 
we  should  go  to  Government  to  do  away  with  Patronage.  If  they  refused 
to  aid  us,  they  could  not  accuse  us  of  want  of  sympathy  with  the  country  ; 
and  if  they  aided  us,  they  could  not  destroy  us.  They  could  not  well  order 
new  clothes  for  a  man,  and  then  kill  him. 

"Some  think  that  Gladstone,  in  his  interview  as  reported,  wished  that  in 
the  memorial  which  he  suggested,  we  should  discuss  the  question  of  sharing 
endowments  with  other  Presbyterian  Churches.  No  one,  at  the  time,  as 
far  as  I  know,  believe  I  this.     Had  1  done  so,  although   warned  Uy  several 


MODERATOR&HIP  AND  PATRONAGE.  393 

influential  Members  of  Parliament  not  to  discuss  anything  at  that  interview, 
and  ahio  feeling  the  extreme  dilliculty  of  my  position  as  representing  the 
Church,  accompanied  by  a  deputation  with  so  many  M.P.'s  of  different  sen- 
timents, yet  I  would  have  refused,  without  consent  of  the  Church,  to  enter- 
tain and  discuss  the  question  of  Disestablishment,  when  we  were  com- 
missioned to  consider  Patronage  only.  But  a  leader  in  the  Daily  Review 
made  me  think  that  this  meaning  might  be  given  to  the  words,  and  possibly 
truly,  so  I  protested  in  a  speech  given  in  Glasgow,  at  my  brother's  induction 
dinner  to  Park  Church,  against  what  seemed  to  me  the  insulting  idea  of 
asking  us  to  entertain  such  a  question,  although  the  Church  might  do  it. 
This  called  forth  an  abusive  article."  * 

Ecclesiastical  policy  was  never  congenial  to  him,  and  it  is  doubtful 
how  far  he  was  fitted  to  be  in  this  sphere  the  leader  of  a  party.  lie 
had  strong  convictions  as  to  the  principles  by  which  a  national  Church 
should  bo  guided,  and  drew  a  line,  clear  enough  to  his  own  miud: 
between  the  generous  comprehension  which  he  advocated,  and  the 
latitudinarianism  which  would  override  the  limits  of  catholic  belief. 
But  he  had  neither  patience  nor  taste  for  diplomacy,  nor  for  the  finesse 
required  to  "  manage  "  a  party.  His  special  calling,  in  the  circum- 
stances in  which  the  Church  had  been  placed  since  1843,  had  respect 
to  her  life  and  practical  work ;  and  he  felt  that  in  proportion  as  he 
helped  to  make  her  better  lie  would  also  make  her  stronger.  But, 
although  he  was  not  an  ecclesiastical  politician,  he  acquired  an 
influence  in  the  councils  of  the  Church,  and,  what  was  still  more 
important,  an  influence  beyond  her  pale  which  was  perhaps  wider  and 
more  vital  than  that  of  any  or  all  the  leaders  or  parties.^ 

On  this  subject  Dean  Stanley  wrote  : — 

"  He  was  the  chief  ecclesiastic  of  the  Scottish  Church.  No  other  man 
during  the  last  thirty  years  in  all  spiritual  ministrations  so  nearly  filled  the 
place  of  Chalmers ;  no  other  man  has  occupied  so  high  and  important  a 
position  in  guiding  the  ecclesiastical  movements  of  his  country  since  the 
death  of  Robertson,  we  might  almost  say,  since  the  death  of  Carstares  .  .  . 
Macleod  represented  Scottish  Protestantism  more  than  any  other  single 
man.  Under  and  around  him  men  would  gather  who  would  gather  round 
no  one  else.  When  he  spoke  it  was  felt  to  be  the  voice,  the  best  voice  of 
Scotland." 

*  Considerable  difference  of  opinion  prevailed  as  to  the  exact  words  used  by  Mr.  Glad- 
stone, but  that  Dr.  Macleod  had  quite  apprehended  their  purport,  may  be  gathered 
from  the  following  letter,  written  by  Mr.  Gladstone's  Secretary  to  the  Itev.  Mr.  Dykes, 
of  Ayr  : — 

"  Mr.  Gladstone  has  no  report  by  hirn  of  his  conversation  with  the  deputation  that 
waited  on  him  in  the  summer,  and  is  unable,  without  that  assistance  to  make  any  posi- 
tive assertion  on  the  subject  ;  but  according  to  his  best  recollection,  he  gave  no  opinion 
of  his  own  on  t\\*  proposal  of  the  deputation,  but  inquired  if  it  had  been  considered  what 
view  was  or  would  be  taken  of  the  proposal  by  the  other  Presbyterian  communions  in 
Scotland,  and  what  effect  its  adoption  would  have  on  the  relation  between  those  com- 
munions (regard  being  had  to  their  origin)  and  the  Established  Church." 

+  I  am  reminded,  that  since  the  Disruption  there  have  been  no  parties  in  the  Church. 
This  may  be  true  in  a  technical  sense,  but  practically,  each  Assembly  has  been  divided 
on  special  questions  ;  and  these  divisions  have  usually  been  determined  by  a  general 
policy. 


394  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

It  was  fortunate,  therefore,  for  the  movement  for  the  Abolition  of 
Patronage,  that  when  it  first  took  definite  shape,  the  Church  was 
represented  by  orre  whose  antecedents  gave  him  claims  to  attention  in 
professing  to  speak  on  grormds  of  public  rather  than  sectarian  policy. 

His  own  views  on  the  question  of  Patronage  were  sufficiently 
defined.  He  never  for  a  moment  imagined  that  it  was  contrary  to 
Scripture  ;  and,  as  actually  exercised  in  the  Church,  he  deemed  there 
might  be  many  advantages  as  well  as  disadvantages  connected  with 
its  continuance.  It  was,  however,  on  grounds  of  Christian  expediency, 
and  in  view  of  the  relation  of  the  Church  to  the  country,  that  he  now 
supported  its  abolition.  Even  as  early  as  1843  he  had  foreseen  the 
necessity  of  moving  in  this  direction,  and  in  his  closing  address  as 
Moderator  of  the  General  Assembly  he  strongly  urged  the  motives  Vy 
which  the  national  Church  ought,  in  his  opinion,  to  be  actuated. 

• 

"  By  a  national  Church,  I  mean  one  whose  clergy  are  secured  a  decent 
support  out  of  certain  funds  set  apart  by  the  State  for  their  use;  a  Church 
whose  doctrines  have  been  accepted  by  the  State,  as  those  which  are  hence- 
forth to  characterise  the  teaching  of  its  ministers,  and  whose  government 
and  discipline  are  in  their  several  outlines  defined,  recognised,  and  protected 
by  law.  Such  an  organization  exists,  not  for  the  sake  of  the  clergy,  but  for 
the  sake  of  the  country.  The  people  do  not  thus  belong  to  the  Church,  but 
the  Church  to  the  people.  Cur  stipends  are  not  given  for  our  own  sake, 
but  for  theirs.  The  Church  is  their  property,  and  all  her  ministrations  are 
established  for  their  advantage.  If  this  be  so,  then  a  national  Church  can 
never,  without  forfeiting  its  true  position,  regard  what  are  called  its  own 
interests  as  being  in  any  way  independent  of  the  interests  of  the  country, 
but  rather  as  subordinate  to  them. 

"  A  Christian  body,  self-supported,  whose  members  are  united  by  a  mere 
voluntary  agreement,  may  exist  for  itself  only,  and  teach  as  it  pleases,  being 
answerable  alone  to  conscience  and  to  Cod.  Not  so  a  Church  which  has 
had  conferred  upon  it  the  privileges  and  consequent  responsibilities  of  an 
Establishment.  Every  question  which  comes  before  such  a  Church  for  de- 
cision must  be  judged  of  with  reference  to  the  general  interests  of  the 
nation.  According  to  this  principle,  the  views  and  wishes  of  Churches  dis- 
senting from  our  communion,  on  grounds  which  it  may  be  possible  for  us  to 
remove,  and  the  beliefs  even  of  those  of  our  fellow  countrymen  who  reject 
all  Churches,  demand  from  us  earnest  and  anxious  consideration.  The 
office-bearers  of  the  national  Church  are  trustees  of  a  property  which  is 
theirs  only  in  so  far  as  they  regard  it  as  a  common  boon,  which  all  citizens 
are  entitled  to  share.  How  many  of  our  divisions  might  have  been  prevent- 
ed, had  all  parties,  acting  on  this  principle,  carried  in  common  the  burden 
of  the  Church,  and  endeavoured  to  make  her  claims  harmonious  at  once 
with  the  righteous  demands  of  the  State  and  of  the  country  !  How  much 
might  yet  be  done  if  we  would  pass  over  all  the  narrow  space  bounded  by 
Church  party  into  the  wider  space  limited  only  by  Christian  patriotism ! 
We  are  thus  bound,  as  far  as  is  consistent  with  our  existence  as  a  Christian 
Church,  to  include  within  it  as  many,  and  to  exclude  from  it  as  few  as  pos- 
sible, of  our  countrymen.     And  in  order,  I  repeat,  to  do  this,  we  should 


MODERATORSHIP  AND    PATRON  AG  R.  395 

weigh  their  conscientious  convictions  whether  as  to  government,  forms  of 
worship,  or  doctrines  of  minor  i 
charity,  which  is  at  once  the  h 


worship,  or  doctrines  of  minor  importance,  i*  tin;  light  of  that  true  Christian 

highest  form  o£- freedom  and  of  restraint." 


His  anxiety  was,  if  possible,  to  rebuild  tlie  Church  on  a  foundation 
sufficiently  wide  to  include  the  Presbyterianism  of  Scotland.  He  did 
not,  however,  delude  himself  with  the  hope  of  any  corporate  union 
immediately  taking  place  with  the  Free  Church  and  United  Presby- 
terians, in  consequence  of  the  abolition  of  Patronage  lie  knew  too 
well  their  historical  antecedents,  understood  too  well  the  spirit  which 
years  of  antagonism  had  created,  and  had  weighed  too  carefully  other 
practical  difficulties  to  expect  any  such  happy  consummation.  In 
reference  to  this  he  used  to  quote  from  "  Christabel "  these  lines — 

"  Alas  !  they  had  been  friends  in  youth  ; 
But  whispering  tongues  can  poison  truth  ; 
And  constancy  lives  in  realms  above  ; 
And  life  is  thorny  ;  and  youth  is  vaiu  ; 
And  to  be  wroth  with  one  we  love, 
Doth  work  like  madness  in  the  brain. 
*  *  &  # 

Each  spake  words  of  high  disdain 

And  insult  to  his  heart's  best  brother  ; 

They  parted — ne'er  to  meet  again  ! 

But  never  either  found  another 

To  free  the  hollow  heart  from  paining— 

They  stood  aloof,  the  scars  rem.ining, 

Like  cliffs  which  had  been  rent  asunder  ; 

A  dreary  sea  now  flows  between  ; 

But  neither  heat,  nor  frost,  nor  thunder, 

Shall  wholly  do  away,  I  ween, 

The  marks  of  that  which  once  hath  been. " 

But  he  certainly  dared  to  hope  that,  after  time  had  exercised  its 
healing  influence,  these  Churches  would  be  thankful  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  national  endowments  for  religion,  and  appreciate  the 
attempt  now  made  to  open  the  doors  of  the  Establishment  as  wide 
as  possible  to  all  Presbyterian  bodies.  In  these  endowments  he 
saw  the  only  sufficient  security  for  the  existence  of  a  well  paid  and 
well  educated  ministry  for  the  nation.  All  he  had  seen  and  learned 
of  Voluntaryism  in  America,  and  all  he  had  known  of  its  working  in 
this  country,  had  convinced  him  that,  when  existing  alone,  it  was  not 
only  insufficient  for  the  proper  support  of  the  Church  in  poor  districts, 
but  involved  in  its  very  nature  elements  of  danger  to  the  tone,  inde- 
pendence, and  liberty  of  the  clergy.*  It  seemed  to  him  therefore  a 
betrayal  of  the  interests  of  Christianity  in  Scotland,  where  the  people 
were  practically  at  one  in  their  beliefs,  to  throw  away  the  patrimony 
ef  the  Church  for  the  sake  of  a  party  triumph.  He  was  therefore 
determined,  as  far  as  in  him  lay,  to  conserve  the  Church  for  patriotic 
ends,  and,  with  this  view,  wras  anxious  to  bring  her  government  as 
much  as  possible  into  harmony  with  the  lawful  wishes,  and  even  the 
prejudices  of  the  people. 

*  See  his  Speech  on  Patronage  in  the  Assembly  of  lSTO. 


396  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  "We  must  endeavour  to  build  up  a  Church,  national  but  not  sectarian, 
most  tolerant,  but  not  indifferent — a  Church  with  liberty  but  not  license, 
endowed  but  not  covetous,  and  which,  because  national,  should  extend  her 
sympathy,  her  charity,  if  need  be  her  protection,  to  other  Churches,  and  to 
every  man  who,  by  word  or  deed,  tries  to  advance  the  good  of  our  beloved 
country."* 

Some  months  after  the  deputation  had  waited  on  Mr.  Gladstone,  he 
wrote  to  the  Duke  of  Argyll  in  the  following  terms  : — 

"  29  th  March,  1870. 

■  "  No  man  realises  more  fully  or  intensely  than  I  do  the  difficulties  which 
surround  us  on  every  side  in  attempting  to  preserve  the  Church  as  an 
Established  Church,  or  even  to  secure  for  Presbyterianism  the  ecclesiastical 
funds  of  the  country.  We  cannot  remain  in  our  present  position  and 
receive  an  attack,  for  our  doing  so  would  provoke  an  attack,  and  justly  too, 
as  that  would  not  be  acting  a  worthy  part.  We  cannot  retract  after  the  vote 
for  movement  in  regard  to  Patronage.  We  must  advance,  stronger  in  num- 
bers, in  activity,  in  talent  and  influence,  than  during  any  previous  period 
subsequent  to  '43  ;  and  stronger  still  I  humby  hope  in  an  unselfish  desire, 
as  becomes  a  national  Church,  to  seek  the  good  of  the  country.  And  for 
this  end  we  ought  to  be  willing  to  share  as  far  as  practicable  the  advantages 
or  the  prestige  of  the  Establishment,  or  at  the  worst,  its  endowments,  with 
all  who  will  receive  them.  I  advance  therefore  to  make  honourable  terms, 
not  with  '  the  enemy,' .  or  mutineers,  but  with  those  regiments  who  have 
left  us,  formed  themselves  into  a  Free  Corps,  and  have  weakened  in  so  many 
ways  the  army  which  should  be  united  against  the  common  foe.  Our 
attempt  is  not  hopeless  !  No  attempt  can  be  so  which,  before  God,  seeks 
to  do  good.  A  higher  blessing  in  some  form  must  come  than  if  no  such 
attempt  is  made.  I  have  faith  in  God.  All  will  depend  on  the  spirit  which 
may  actuate  the  Churches. 

"  The  removal  of  Patronage,  I  am  aware,  is  but  one  step,  and  not  the 
greatest.  But  I  fancy  that  if  it  could  be  enacted  that  induction  should  take 
place  '  according  to  the  laws  of  the  Church,'  leaving  liberty  to  regulate  from 
time  to  time  the  laws  regarding  the  election,  that  the  difficulty  of  '  spiritual 
independence '  would  be  practically  solved. 

"  The  Free  Church  could  not,  without  denying  her  principles  and  history, 
refuse  at  least  to  consider  the  question  in  the  gravest  manner,  and  the 
responsibility  of  refusal  would  be  laid  on  her.  A  considerable  party  in  that 
Church,  and  in  the  whole  north  of  Scotland,  which  has  declared  against 
union  with  the  Voluntaries,  and  mourns  over  the  '  sad  defection '  of 
Candlish,  Guthrie,  and  Buchanan,  would  gladly  entertain  the  idea.  The 
United  Presbyterians,  who  in  their  political  eagerness  to  join  the  Free 
Church,  consented  to  let  the  principle  of  Establishment  be  '  an  open  question' 
could  hardly  make  its  practice  (a  mere  £  s.  d.  affair)  be  a  ground  for  rupture, 
and  thus,  if  there  was  an  Endowed  Free  Church  in  friendly  co-operation — in 
unity,  if  not  union — with  those  tender  consciences  which  'cannot  touch  tho 
coined  money,'  we  should  have  reform,  in  harmony  with  our  past  history, 
and  not  Revolution. 

*  Speech  in  Assembly,  1870. 


MODERATOBSHIP  AND   PATRONAGE.  397 

"In  spite  of  all  that  Voluntary  Churches  have  done,  never  were  endow- 
ments, in  addition  to  free  gifts,  more  needed,  if  we  are  to  have,  beyond  the 
towns,  clergy  who  can  hold  their  own  among  a  cultivated  and  educated  laity. 

''There  is  a  great  fear  on  the  part  of  some  of  our  Broad  Churchmen,  leash 
an  immigration  of  barbarian  races  into  the  Establishment  should  extinguish 
all  the  freedom  and  break  up  the  Church  by  a  series  of  massacres,  or  force 
other  and  counter  migrations  to  Independent  or  Episcopal  Churches.  They 
tell  me  I  should  be  the  first  man  to  be  shot  !  But  I  do  not  fear  this.  In- 
deed, I  begin  to  fear  much  more  lest  liberty  should  degenerate  into  license  : 
anyhow,  I  have  confidence  in  truth,  time,  and  public  opinion. 

'  I  write  to  you  without  reserve.  I  believe  in  your  good-will  to  the 
Church,  your  love  to  your  country.  '  Who  knoweth  whether  thou  art  come 
to  the  kingdom  for  such  a  time  as  this1?'  " 

To  Dr.  Charteris: — 

'•  There  would  be,  on  the  one  hand,  great  danger  to  fair  and  honest  free- 
dom by  union  at  present  with  the  Free  Church.  We  should  be  terribly 
tried  by  a  demon  of  Dogma,  wandering  in  dry  places,  and  no  real  man  dar- 
ing to  pass  that  way.  Even  John  Calvin  would  be  strangled.  Hymns! 
Organs!  Simpler  Creed!  Simpler  formula!  Pfui!  All  gone,  and  the 
Church  would  soon  follow. 

"  I  see  no  chance  of  any  legislation  by  which  their  idea  of  spiritual  inde- 
pendence can  be  made  possible.  Do  you?  And  if  possible,  desirable.  Do 
you? 

"  But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  hold  an  endowed  Church,  according  to  all 
experience,  to  be  almost  essential  to  our  possessing  men  of  culture,  and  such 
are  a  great  gift  from  God.  We  may  do  without  them,  but  we  shall  do  im- 
mensely better  with  them,  and  this  leads  to  union,  for  the  strengthening  of 
the  Church. 

And  again,  bad  as  high  and  dry,  tight-laced,  hard,  straight-line,  orthodoxy 
is,  there  is  something  inconceivably  worse,  and  that  is  cold,  heartless,  breath- 
less, speculative  unbelief.  If  I  fear  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  Scotland  be- 
ing  frozen  by  orthodoxy  into  fixed  and  dead  forms  as  respects  thought,  I  fear 
a  million  times  more  her  ministers  and  people  being  frozen  into  eternal 
lumps  of  ice. 

"  Lastly,  if  our  Church  in  Scotland  is  to  do  the  utmost  possible  work  as 
a  Church  for  Scotland,  it  must  be  by  method,  by  the  saving  of  waste  power, 
whether  of  men  or  money,  and  by  gaining  more  moral  and  spiritual  power 
by  means  of  fewer  temptations  to  malice,  envy,  pride,  selfish  ambition,  &c, 
and  by  affording  greater  inducements  and  opportunities  to  cultivate  common 
sympathies  and  common  affections  in  praying,  pi'eaching,  and  working  to- 
gether in  advancing  our  Lord's  kingdom.     All  this  points  to  union." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"Aird's  Bay,  Locii  Etive,  18G9. 

"  At  the  end  of  June,  I  went  with  Watson  and  Strahan  to  Berlin.  I  fixed 
the  missionaries  to  the  Aborigines  of  India.  We  left  Glasgow  on  Tuesday, 
and  I  was  back  on  the  next  Friday  week.  I  had  a  most  uncomfortable 
journey,  and  was  very  wearied.  I  returned  by  Hamburgh ;  since  that  1 
have  been  here." 


398  LIFE  OF  NO  EM  AN  MACLEOD. 

To  Canon  Kutosley: — 

"Aird'.s  Bay  House,  July  24,  18C9. 

"  Your  note  aTbout  Captain  A —  came  when  I  was  occupying  the  Chair  of 
the  General  Assembly.  After  that  I  had  to  go  to  Balmoral;  then  London; 
then  Berlin  ;  all  on  public  business.  Now  I  am  trying  to  rest  beneath  the 
shadow  of  Cruachan,  and  to  pump  out  the  letters  which  have  nearly 
drowned  me. 

"  What  a  glorious  country  this  is  !  I  think  Loch  Etive  the  finest  loch  in 
the  Highlands.  It  worms  its  way  like  Olaf  Tryggveson's  snake-boat  far  up 
among  silent  hills  for  thirty  miles,  with  branching  glens  going  nowhere,  here 
and  there  a  hut  like  a  boulder,  ending  with  the  shepherd's  of  Etive  Glen. 

"  It  is  worth  coming  all  this  way  to  row  up  the  Loch,  for  there  is  no  road 
on  either  side,  and  its  shores  are  unpolluted.  No  Murray  knoweth  them. 
The  trail  of  the  old  clans  has  not  been  obliterated  by  foot  of  civilised  man. 
An  old  seal  raised  his  head  and  wondered  if  I  was  going  to  join  Prince 
Charlie.  The  sheep  stare  at  me.  The  hills  seem  to  dress  themselves  in 
their  best  robes  and  colours  to  receive  strangers. 

"  Well,  Benares  and  Bunawe,  Lucknow  and  Lome  are  queer  contrasts ! 

"  What  a  glory  before  me  is  that  Cruachan !  For  a  week  after  arriving 
I  was  so  fagged  and  out  of  sorts  that  Nature  touched  me  only  on  the  outside. 
My  soul  seemed  nature-proof.  It  begins  now  to  receive  some  of  its  beauty; 
and  next  to  the  Bible  I  find  Nature  the  holiest  teacher. 

"  It  is  fortunate  for  me  that  you  will  be  unable  to  read  this." 

From  liis  Journal  : — 

"20th  August,  18G9. — I  leave  in  an  hour  for  Inverie,  Mr.  Baird's  place 
in  the  north. 

"  I  have  had  a  wonderful  time  of  happiness  with  all  my  dear  children,  all 
so  well  and  joyous ;  one  of  those  many  times  of  heaven's  sunshine  on  earth 
we  have  had  together,  but  which  cannot,  in  the  transition  period  of  educa- 
tion by  trial,  be  repeated  often. 

"  I  preached  every  Sunday,  except  the  one  I  was  in  Glasgow.  I  have 
written  two  'Peeps' — Madras  and  Calcutta;  also  a  long  article  in  Record 
on  the  Aborigines,  and  at  least  two  hundred  letters.  We  have  had  little 
trips — on  Loche  Awe  and  Loch  Etive — once  with  dear  Shairp. 

"  I  have  been  made  Dean  of  the  Thistle." 

His  former  assistant  and  minister  of  liis  Mission  Church,  the  Eev. 
Mr.  Young,  of  Ellon,  gives  the  following  reminiscence  of  an  evening 
spent  at  Aird's  Bay  : — 

"  The  Doctor  had  retired  early  in  the  clay  into  a  quiet  room  for  work,  but 
as  the  day  wore  on,  and  he  heard  us  at  croquet,  he  left  his  letters  and  India 
Mission  work  and  joined  us  for  a  while.  He  likes  this  game,  for  it  brings 
him  into  the  open  air  and  the  society  of  his  children,  and  so  enthusiastic 
does  he  get  that  he  affects  even  to  loose  his  temper  as  the  play  goes  against 
his  side.  It  was,  however,  only  a  brief  interlude  of  relaxation,  for  he  was 
soon  at  his  writing  again,  and  scarcely  emerged  till  late  in  the  evening.  We 
had  gathered  in  the  drawing-room,  and  the  music  had  just  commenced,  when 
a  tap  on  the  window  outside  summoned  me  to  join  him.     He  is  tired  after 


MODEBATORSHIP  AND   VAT  RUN  AGE.  399 

his  day's  work,  and  sits  smoking  under  a  tree.  The  solemn  calm  and  beauty 
of*  the  landscape,  seen  in  the  fast-fading  light,  have  suggested  a  multitude  of 
profound  thoughts  which  lie  wishes  to  communicate.  I  sit  almost  speech- 
less, for  he  discourses  most  marvellously  about  Clod's  mercies  and  their 
varied  clients  on  the  grateful  and  ungrateful.  There  is  a  nervous  eloquence 
in  his  words,  and  although  it  is  very  dark,  I  know  that  his  whole  frame 
heaves  with  emotion,  as  he  pictures  the  hard  struggle  which  the  Christian 
has  in  acquiescing  in  the  divine  will  when  that  will  requires  the  surrender 
of  some  choice  blessing.  This  leads  to  a  touching  autobiographical  sketch, 
in  winch  he  teiis  ui  me  deep  waters  lie  had  some  years  before  passed  through 
during  the  time  Mrs.  Macleod  was  in  fever.  1  never  was  so  impressed  as 
by  that  conversation.  The  sacred  quiet  of  the  late  evening,  the  earnest 
pathos  of  the  speaker,  and  the  thrilling  nature  of  the  theme  powerfully 
affected  me.  When  he  ended,  we  wiped  the  tears  from  our  eyes,  and  joined 
the  family  in  the  drawing- room,  and  enjoyed  music  and  singing  the  rest  of 
the  evening." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"December  ?>\st,  18G9. — In  a  few  hours  the  century  will  have  lived  its 
threescore  and  ten  years  !  I  question  if  since  time  began,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  three  or  four  great  eras,  such  as  the  calling  of  Abraham,  the  Exodus, 
the  birth  of  Christ,  the  Reformation,  the  invention  of  printing,  or  it  may 
be,  the  breaking  up  of  the  Roman  Empire,  the  birth  of  Mahomet,  or  of 
Buddah— such  an  influential  period  has  existed.  The  invention  of  the 
steam-engine,  the  discovery  of  gas,  telegraph,  chloroform  ;  with  the  freedom 
of  slaves,  the  British  acquisition  of  India,  the  opening  up  of  the  world  to  the 
gospel,  the  translations  of  the  Scriptures,  will  make  it  forever  memorable. 

"  It  has  been  a  happy  year  to  myself,  and  some  events  in  it  have  been  to 
me  interesting  personally. 

"I  have  collected  some  thousands  for  Retiring  Allowance  Fund:  address- 
ed very  many  meetings  on  Missions  ;  founded  and  collected  for  Aborigines 
Mission;  got  free  site  for  new  Mission  Church  at  Bluevale;  aided  in  arrang- 
ing plan  for  ten  new  churches.     Written  eleven  articles  for  Good  JVords. 

"January,  1870. — We  had  our  old  gathering  on  the  first  of  the  year  at 
Shandon.  My  beloved  mother,  alive  and  hearty,  at  the  head  of  our  table  ! 
Such  mercies  are  awful !  And  very  rare  it  is  in  a  man  of  fifty-eight  to  have 
such  a  mother — so  grand  and  good,  so  full  of  love  and  sympathy — almost 
painful  from  its  intensity — to  be  one  with  him  from  his  infancy  ! 

".  .  .  .  God  Almighty,  imbue  us  all  with  Thy  charity!  The  longer  I 
live  the  less  do  I  desire  to  judge  any  man.  There  is  no  one  but  God  can 
decide  as  to  any  man's  character.  This  is  a  product  of  so  many  causes — 
temperament,  the  society  into  which  he  has  been  cast,  intellectual  capacity, 
the  teaching  he  has  received,  whether  from  the  books  he  has  read,  the 
clergy — perhaps  bigots,  ignorant  men,  superstitious  dogmatists,  mere  talk- 
ers— he  has  heard,  and  a  thousand  circumstances — that  we  dare  not  con- 
demn the  man,  though  from  the  light  God  has  given  us  we  may  say,  'to  me 
this  is  right  or  wrong.'  Many  a  so-called  'infidel'  is  nearer  the  kingdom  of 
God  than  many  an  'orthodox'  minister.  Many  an  unbeliever  is  a  protest 
against  those  who  in  honest  ignorance  have,  in  the  name  of  God,  spoken 
what  is  untrue.     What  we  all  need  is  a  child-like  spirit  to  trust  God,  to 


400  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

hear  God,  to  believe  that  there  is  a  God  who  loves  us,  who  desires  oui 
individual  well-being,  who  can  and  will  teach  us,  and  lead  us  into  all  essen- 
tial truth,  such  truth  as  will  make  us  His  children  in  teachableness  and 
obedience. 

"  The  clergy  have  often  done  great  damage  to  the  truth.  They  have 
sought  more  to  fit  in  what  has  been  proposed  as  truth  to  them,  to  a  system 
of  theology  given  them  in  the  Divinity  Hall,  than  to  see  it  in  the  light  of 
God  himself. 

"  It  is  an  awful  thought  that  some  men  cannot  bring  God's  own  revealed 
truth  into  the  light  of  reason  and  conscience.  I  have  such  profound  faith 
in  revealed  truth  to  us  as  to  rejoice  that  it  shall  be  tried  by  what  God  has 
revealed  in  us.  I  would  tremble  for  any  truth  that  could  be  maintained  by 
nothing  more  than  by  the  authority  of  the  letter,  by  an  '  it  is  written.' 
Jesus  used  this  argument ;  but  it  was  to  the  Devil,  who  had  no  spiritual 
eye  to  see.  So  may  we  address  his  disciples,  and  leave  them  to  think  of  it. 
Yes,  and  it  answers  to  what  is  written  in  the  soul,  conscience,  hopes,  sor- 
rows, joys,  and  expectations  of  humanity.  I  almost  adore  the  Bible.  The 
more  I  read  it,  without  almost  any  thought  of  questions  of  inspiration,  but 
simply  as  a  record  of  fact,  of  precept  and  principle,  of  judgment  and  of 
mercy,  of  God's  acts  and  'ways'  (i.e.,  the  principles  of  his  acts),  all  culmi- 
nating in  Christ,  as  a  revelation  of  what  God  is  to  man,  and  what  man  was 
created  to  be  to  God,  the  more  my  whole  moral  being  responds  to  it,  as  be- 
ing a  revelation  of  God.  The  authority  of  the  Bible  is  to  me  supreme, 
because  it  'commands'  my  reason  and  conscience.  I  feel  it  is  from  God. 
It  was  once  otherwise  with  me.  It  is  so  no  more ;  and  the  older  I  get  the 
more  my  spirit  says  amen  to  it. 

"  I  feel  a  great  difference  from  looking  at  revealed  truth,  not  as  it  dove- 
tails into  a  system  of  theology,  but  as  it  appears  in  the  light  of  God,  as 
revealed  in  Christ.  A  divine  instinct  seems  to  assure  me  'this  is  true,'  '  it 
is  like  God,'  'it  is  in  harmony  with  all  I  know  of  Him.' 

"  I  believe  all  our  churches  are  breaking  up.  We  have  almost  settled 
the  questions  of  mere  dogmatics.  Calvinism,  Arminianism,  and  all  the 
isms  connected  with  men  have  done  their  work  in  educating  the  Church. 
Rome  tries  by  the  force  of  numbers  centered  in  Papal  infallibility  in  regard 
to  dogma,  to  hold  the  Church  together.  Protestantism  is,  in  another  form, 
trying  to  create  unity  by  restraints  that  are  also  external.  But  what  we 
crave  for  is  the  union  of  life,  '  Christ  in  us,'  which  alone  can  convince  the 
world  that  a  new  supernatural  power  has  really  entered  humanity,  a  power 
which  alone  can  produce  in  us  a  new  character,  and  make  us  partakers  of 
the  divine  nature.  I  think  we  shall  be  all  smashed  as  respects  church es 
and  systems,  and  this,  as  a  negative  preparation  for  the  second  coming  of 
Christ — not  an  objective  coming,  but  one  through  the  Spirit,  as  Christ  in 
us,  the  whole  life  of  Christ,  uniting  all  who  know  Him,  as  the  one  hope  of 
glory.     May  Thy  kingdom  come  ! 

"The  power  of  mere  traditional  views  of  so-called  Christianity  is  to  m  ■ 
utterly  astounding.  I  heard  an  excellent  young  man  preach  last  night.  He 
logically  carried  out  the  asssumption  that  our  Lord  endured  the  very  pun- 
ishment our  sins  deserved.  Hence,  he  said,  the  damned  in  hell  alone  could 
lindersta  ad  His  sufferings  !  Yet  such  monstrous — shall  I  call  it  blasphemy? — 
never  struck  him.  God  forgive  us  clergy,  who  have  made  men  infidels  by 
all  the  'hard  speeches'  we  have  in  our  ignorance  uttered  against  Thee. 


MOVER  A  TORSHIP  A  ND   P.  1  TRONA  GR  40] 

"The  Lord  reigns !  Lot  the  earth  be  glad !  Our  hope  is  in  Him  who 
'i:;  able,' — who  else  can? — to  give  us  light  and  life. 

"  My  life  is  not  what  I  would  have  chosen.  J  often  yearn  and  long  for 
quiet,  for  reading,  and  for  thought.  It  seems  to  me  to  be  a  xevy  paradise, 
to  be  able  to  read,  think,  pray,  go  deep  into  things,  gather  the  glorious 
riches  of  intellectual  culture,  rise  into  the  empyrean  of  abstract  truth,  write 
thoughtful  and  careful  sermons,  grasp  at  the  great  principles  of  wise  states- 
manship, master  all  the  historical  details  necessary  as  data  for  future  refer- 
ence, &c,  &c. 

"  God  has  forbidden  it  in  His  providence.  I  must  spend  hours  in  receiv- 
ing people  (not  of  my  congregation)  who  wish  to  speak  to  me  about  all  sorts 
of  trifles  ;  to  reply  to  letters  about  nothing  ;  to  engage  on  public  work  on 
everything ;  to  waste  my  life  on  what  seems  uncongenial,  vanishing,  tem- 
porary, waste.  Yet  God  knowrs  me  better  than  I  do  myself.  He  knows 
my  gifts  and  powers,  my  failings,  and  my  weaknesses,  what  I  can  do  and 
not  do.  So  I  desire  to  be  led,  and  not  to  lead ;  to  follow  Him  ;  and  I  am 
quite  sure  that  He  has  thus  enabled  me  to  do  a  great  deal  more,  in  ways 
which  seem  to  me  almost  a  waste  of  life,  in  advancing  His  kingdom  than  I 
could  have  done  in  any  other  way — I  am  sure  of  that.  Intellectually  I  am 
weak.  In  scholarship  nothing.  In  a  thousand  things  a  baby.  He  knows 
this,  and  so  He  has  led  me  and  greatly  blessed  me,  who  am  nobody,  to  be 
of  some  use  to  my  Church  and  fellow  men.  How  kind,  how  good,  how 
compassionate,  art  Thou,  O  God  ! 

"  Oh,  my  Father!  keep  me  humble.  Help  me  to  have  respect  towards  my 
fellow-men — to  recognise  their  several  gifts  as  from  Thee.  Deliver  me  from 
the  diabolical  sins  of  malice,  envy,  or  jealousy,  and  give  me  hearty  joy  in  my 
brother's  good,  in  his  work,  in  his  gifts  and  talents ;  and  may  I  be  truly 
glad  in  his  superiority  to  myself,  if  Thou  art  glorified  !  Root  out  all  weak 
vanity,  all  devilish  pride,  all  that  is  abhorrent  to  the  mind  of  Christ.  God, 
hear  my  prayer  !  Grant  me  the  wondrous  joy  of  humility,  which  is  seeing 
Thee  as  All  in  All ! 

" ■January  17. — That  which  does  not  commend  itself  to  the  consience  of 
the  Church,  i.e.,  the  true  Church  of  men  who  reverence  God,  who  seek  Him, 
desire  to  do  His  will,  and  peril  all  in  knowing  Him,  is  not  io  be  received. 
God  himself  challenges  the  response  of  the  enlightened  conscience — '  Judge 
between  me  and  my  vineyard.' 

"  I  thank  God  that  He,  not  man's  absurd  arguments,  can  touch  sinners 
and  bring  them  to  Himself. 

'■'  How  often  are  men  right  in  the  thing,  and  wrong  in  the  argument. 
How  often  right  in  the  argument,  and  wrong  in  the  thing !  All-merciful, 
wise  God,  have  mercy  on  us  and  teach  us!" 

To  Rev.  W.  F.  Stevenson:—  "February,  1870. 

"  I  returned  at  the  end  of  last  week  from  England,  where  my  wife  and  I 
spent  ten  days  very  happily.  We  visited,  with  our  friends  the  Lumsdens, 
Oxford,  Kenilworth,  Stratford-on-Avon,  and,  aided  by  a  carriage  and  two 
horses,  had  a  splendid  day  with  the  hounds,  and  followed  them  from  the 
meet  to  the  death.  The  clergy  are  too  much  Jacob  all  over,  and  might  be 
improved  by  a  little  of  Esau.  What  a  fine  man  could  be  made  out  of  them 
both — better  than  either  ! 

20 


402  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

"  I  have  too  much  on  hand.  I  begin  another  new  church  for  my  poor 
people.  But  I  am  now  as  firmly  convinced  as  Midler  or  you  are,  that 
whatever  work  God  gives  us  to  do  will  be  done  and  finished,  if  clone  to  Him 
and  by  Him?  So  I  shall  build  my  church — get  £10,000  for  my  Retiring 
Fund,  establish  my  Aborigines  Mission,  get  fit  men  and  money  for  hone 
and  abroad,  and  also  become  myself  a  better  man — though  last  not  least! 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  long  talk  with  you  on  public  affairs.  All  is  preparing, 
by  bad  as  well  as  good,  for  the  coming  of  Christ  in  us — to  reign  on  earth." 

He  resumed  once  more  the  fatiguing  labour  of  addressing  Pres- 
byteries  and  public  meetings  in  different  parts  of  the  country  on  behalf 
of  the  India  Mission  ;  and  while  he  was  grateful  for  the  personal  kind- 
ness he  always  experienced  and  the  expressions  of  increased  interest 
on  the  part  of  clergy  and  laity  with  wdiicli  these  meetings  were 
generally  concluded,  lie  had  yet  to  deplore  the  absence  of  permanent 
results.  The  movement  which  was  inaugurated,  the  resolutions  that 
were  heartily  carried  where  he  was  present,  were  too  frequently  for- 
gotten a  few  weeks  afterwards.  He  was  also  not  a  little  annoyed 
by  the  readiness  with  which  many  excellent  ministers  assumed  an 
attitude  of  suspicion  towards  the  Mission,  lest  it  should  be  conducted 
on  too  '  broad'  principles. 

"  This  India  Mission,"  he  writes,  <:  our  only  mission  to  the  heathen,  is  on 
its  trial.  The  deputation  to  India  was  but  a  prelude  to  the  more  difficult 
work  of  seeking  to  give  life  to  this  great,  stolid,  dull  mass  of  clergy  and 
people." 

"  I  solemnly  declare,"  he  writes  again  to  a  respected  brother  clergyman 
who  was  standing  aloof,  "  that  except  I  am  better  supported  by  the  clergy 
I  will  give  it  up.  I  have  neither  time  nor  heart  for  it.  Last  night,  lame 
with  gout,  I  addressed  two  thousand  five  hundred  people  in  Perth.  I  have 
now  been  for  four  hours  doing  nothing  but  writing  letters  connected  with 
another  meeting — and  this  is  but  a  drop  in  my  bucket — and  in  the  mid 
of  this  constant  worry  of  mind  to  have  cold  water  or  lukewarm  water 
thrown  over  me  !  The  fire  burns  in  my  bones  for  a  mission  and  a  Church 
at  the  point  of  perishing.  In  Cod's  name  I  will  fight  my  gun  till  I  die  — 
I  do  you  must  come  into  the  battery." 

From  his  JOURNAL  : — 

'•  Our  India  mission  has  never  been  so  strong  in  point  of  agency  since  '-13. 
Tut  will  the  Church  respond  1  The  Lord  knows  '?  My  terror  is  that  sho 
will  not ;  and  then  God  will  in  judgment  take  away  that  which  has  been 
gis-en  !  How  fearful  !  God's  ministers  to  be  the  obstructions  to  missions  ! 
God's  ministers  to  be  the  last !     '  Then  cometh  the  end  1' 

"  May  the  Lord  avert  it  !  It  is  almost  inconceivable  into  what  a  hard, 
formal  state,  even  ministers  may  come  !  A  sort  of  Protestant  Tugi  ;*  a 
Romanism  of  mere  '  sound  words' — forms  ;  no  life,  no  longing  or  yearning 
to  win  souls  to  Christ ;  no  faith,  but  a  conceited  philosophism,  a  puppyism 
of  would-be  philosophical  or  evangelical  cant,  or  an  unbelief  whose  one  end 
is  cultivating  popularity  with  farmers  and  parishioners. 

*  "  I'ugi"  is  the  Indian  name  for  ritual. 


MODERATORSHIP  AND  PATRONAGE.  4Ua 

"As  to  farmers,  I  was  visiting  to-day  a  working  man's  family  from  the 
country.  What  an  account  they  gave  me  of  the  family  life  so  often  found 
in  our  Scotch  farms!  The  indifference  of  the  masters,  the  consequent 
ignorance,  brutality,  and  moral  filth  of  the  servants — the  atrocious  selfish- 
!;  of  the  whole  thing  !  I  lane  the  poorest  possible  opinion  of  the  mor- 
ality, the  common  decency  that  is  too  frequently  observed  on  the  farms  of 
Scotland.     As   Dr.    Chalmers  said  of so  I  may  say  of  a  mass   of  our 

Iculturists — they  are  a  set  of  galvanised  Divots.'* 

"...  There  is  a  great  talk  abou+  education.  Well,  I  would  prefer 
what  is  foolishly  called  '  secular  education'  (as  if  all  truth  was  not  from  God, 
and  therefore  according  to  His  will)  to  none.  But  why  not  religious  in- 
struction, if  '  religious  education'  is  too  glorious  a  thing  to  aspire  after. 
Surely  the  facts  of  the  Bible,  what  it  records  and  says  (whatever  value 
individuals  may  attach  to  them),  should  be  given  to  our  children  1  I  think 
that  the  facts  of  Mahommedanism  and  even  Brahminism,  as  well  as  those 
of  Greek  and  Boman  mythology,  should  be  given  to  the  citizens  of  a  great 
nation  which  rules  millions  believing  in  both.  How  much  more  the  facts 
of  the  Bible  !  As  for  the  Shorter  Catechism,  I  would  not  wish  it  taught  in 
schools,  or  any  catechism  or  abstract  dogmatic  teaching.  Give  me  the 
alleged  facts  !  I  shall  then  have  the  skeletons  which  I  can  through  the 
Spirit  quicken  into  a  great  army  ! 

"  The  ignorance  of  some  critics  on  Scripture  is  wonderful  !  There  is  just 
as  much  bigotry,  narrowness,  and  fanaticism  in  sceptics  as  in  Christians.  I 
have  often  marvelled  at  the  ignorance  of  writers  against  the  Bible  in  regard 
to  facts,  or  as  to  what  enlightened  theologians  have  written. 

"  I  don't  believe  one  fact  narrated  in  Scripture  will  be  found,  in  the  end, 
adverse  to,  but  in  profound  harmony  with  science,  reason,  conscience,  his- 
tory, and  common  sense. 

"  Narrow-minded  theologians  have  been  the  greatest  enemies  to  the  gos- 
pel. They  are  sincere,  pious,  devoted,  but  often  conceited,  self-willed,  and 
ignorant,  making  their  shibboleths  inspiration.  Bious  women,  good  souls, 
have  also  played  into  the  hands  of  infidels,  and  done  them  much  service. 

"  Ignorant  missionaries  of  the  revival  and  extreme  Calvinistic  school 
have  been  great  barriers  in  the  way  of  the  gospel  in  India. 

"  Why  is  it  that  '  liberal'  Churchmen  don't  work?     Why  don't  they  take 

up  missions,   tract  and  other  societies  1       They  leave  these  to  many  old 

wives.     The  good  and  wise  men  anion"  the  '  Evangelicals'  would  be  thank- 
ee o  o 

ful  for  their  aid." 

"  March  llth. — I  have  been  astounded  by  a  most  influential  member  of 
the  Church  saying  to  me,  '  What  is  it  to  me  whether  Christ  worked  mira- 
cles or  rose  from  the  dead  !  We  have  cot  the  right  idea  of  God  through 
Him.  It  is  enough,  that  can  never  perish  !'  And  this  truth  is  like  a  flower 
which  has  grown  from  a  dunghill  of  lies  and  myths  !  Good  Bord,  deliver 
me  from  such  conclusions  !  If  the  battle  has  come,  let  it ;  but  before  God 
I  will  fight  it  with  those  only,  be  they  few  or  many,  who  believe  in  arisen, 
living  Saviour. 

"  This  revelation  of  the  influence  of  surface  criticism  has  thrown  me  back 
immensely  upon  all  who  hold  fast  by  an  objective  revelation.  Nothing  can 
possibly  move  me  from  Jesus  Christ,  the  living  Saviour,  the  Divine  Saviour, 

*  "  Divot"  is  an  expressive  Scotch  word  for  a  turf — sod. 


404  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

the  Atoning  Saviour,  whatever  be  the  philosophy  of  that  atonement.     I 
fear,  yet  tear  not,  a  great  battle  with  all  forms  of  Antichrist." 

"  April  G. — If  the  Church  of  Scotland  will  relax  her  formula,  improve  her 
worship,  by  using  a  liturgy  as  well  as  extempore  prayer,  prescribe  a  regular 
course  of  Scripture  lessons  for  reading  in  Church,  have  good  music  and 
organs  if  need  be,  no  patronage,  a  more  careful  superintendence  of  men,  as 
was  done  by  the  old  superintendents,  establish  a  Central  Sustentation  Fund 
to  support  and  stimulate  Home  Mission  work — then  we  may  be  stronger 
than  ever.  We  must  be  the  Church  of  evangelical  freedom  and  progress. 
"  ...  ir  'JLi  uwixOvrs  of  Christ  were  the  necessary  results  of  His  rela- 
tionship to  God  and  man,  must  they  not  continue  1  Why  not,  but  in  a  form 
consistent  with  and  modified  by  His  present  glorified  and  triumphant  state  1 
"  Our  heaven  is  not  a  selfish  one.  It  is  sympathy  with  Christ.  A  part 
of  its  glory  may  be  noble  suffering  such  as  a  wise  and  a  good  man  would 
prefer  inconceivably  to  the  spiritual  self-indulgence  of  golden  harps  and  en- 
joyment. 

"  Then  cometh  the  end  !  When  1  But  until  then— what  ]  What  of  the 
wicked  ?  What  of  their  education  beyond  the  grave  ]  What  of  the  mission 
of  the  Church  to  them  1  May  not  our  Foreign  Mission  last  in  the  next 
world  ]  What  if  tremendous  self-sacrifice  will  be  demanded  of  the  Church 
to  save  the  wicked,  in  every  case  where  that  is  morally  possible,  and  the 
death  of  Christ  for  sinners  be  repeated  in  principle  1 

"  O  blessed  God  !  How  beautiful  is  that  blue  sky  seen  through  my 
small  study  window  !  What  glory  in  Thy  clouds  ?  What  calm  and  peace 
above  this  world  of  battle  and  of  blood  ! 

"  We  are  made  for  society.  God  has  implanted  the  social  instinct  in  us, 
but  the  only  bond  of  society  is  unselfishness." 

From  Sir  AimiCR  Helfs  : — 

"  Council  Office,  1070. 

"  You  are  a  very  foolish  man  in  one  thing  ;  and,  as  a  sincere  friend  it  is 
my  duty  to  tell  you  so.  I  have  noticed  this  error  in  you  more  than 
once.  You  are  by  nature,  and  you  cannot  help  yourself,  however 
much  you  may  try  to  fork  Mrs.  Nature  out,  an  eloquent  man  in  talk  as  in 
speaking. 

"  The  good  talk  of  others  excites  you,  and  you  heartily  respond  to  it. 

"  People  never  like  you  better  than  when  you  do  so  respond.  And  then, 
afterwards,  you  have  qualms  of  conscience  and  worry  yourself  by  saying, 
'  Was  I  not  too  tempestuous  V 

"  No,  you  were  not ;  you  were  never  more  agreeable.  I  must,  as  a  true 
friend,  drive  this  silly  notion  out  of  your  head. 

"  For  example,  the  other  day  that  clever  Saturday  reviewer  who  sat  next 
to  me  was  your  most  dire  opponent.  He  fired  arrows  into  you,  sharp  ar- 
rows. You  went  on,  never  minding.  With  the  arrows  sticking  in  your 
breast,  you  went  on  thundering  at  him,  and  being  perfectly  unconscious  of 
the  adherent  shafts. 

li  Now  that  reviewer  went  away  with  me,  and  he  expressed  the  most  affec- 
tionate admiration  for  you. 

<;I  declare  to  you,  that  vehement  as  you  are  (and  I  love  your  vehemence), 
I  never  heard  you  say  a  discoux-teous  thing  to  your  opponent  whether  he 
were  present  or  absent,  and  the  latter  is  by  far  the  greater  merit. 


MODERATORSHIP  AND   PATRONAGE.  l'  •> 

"Never  again  talk  to  me  about  repentanee  in  this  matter.     Sometimi     I 
think  you  art  too  merciful  to  your  opponents." 

To  Principal  Su.mrp  : — 

"April  23rd,  1370. 

"  Matthew  Arnold  is  good,  but  I  do  not  think  that  the  inspiration,  in  any 
honest  sense,  of  the  Apostles  is  to  be  set  aside  and  their  testimony  a3  to  fart 
and  doffma  to  be  criticised  as  one  would  a  lecture  of  Jowett  or  a  volume  of 
Kenan.  He  jumps  also  too  rapidly  from  the  position  of  not  seeing  a  state- 
ment as  true  to  that  of  rejecting  it  as  if  untrue,  rather  than  to  wait  for 
light.  I  see  also  a  tendency  to  deal  with  a  spiritual  machinery  of  motive, 
law,  conscience,  will,  to  the  exclusion  of  a  living  personal  God,  just  as  men 
are  doing  with  machinery  of  law  in  the  natural  world.  But  I  did  not 
mean  to  write  an  article.  I  believe  the  Bible  from  Genesis  to  Revelation 
will  be  recognized  more  and  more  as  a  revelation  chosen  and  approved  of  by 
God,  as  the  best  possible,  just  as  true  science  increases  in  breadth,  unity, 
and  depth.  I  despise  and  abhor  that  self-indulgence  of  whim,  and  measur- 
ing everything  by  the  agreeable.  I'd  rather  sweep  chimneys  and  be  a  man, 
than  a  king  and  be  a  spoon." 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  :— 

"  Balmoral,  May,  1870. 

"  Yesterday  was  a  day  of  battle  and  of  triumph  and  no  mistake  for  my 
friends  the  evil  '  speerits.'  Through  the  ignorance  of  that  wretched  '  Boots' 
I  was  kept  hanging  about  the  Perth  platform  from  12  noon-day,  till  1 1.45  p.m. 
Think  of  it  if  you  can,  sleeping,  walking,  yawning,  smoking,  groaning,  smil- 
ing and  abusing  !  A  train  leaves  Aberdeen  at  3  A.M.  while  the  Queen  is 
here.  I  got  it.  Moc;seno-er's  carriage  full,  of  course.  Had  to  hire  another. 
Arrived  here  at  G  a.m.  Have  slept  since,  and  breakfasted  in  my  own  room. 
Seen  no  one.     Tired,  but  have  been  worse. 

"  On  opening  my  bag  found  hair-brushes  and  comb  left  behind  !  Of 
course.     Oh  these  wee  deevils  I" 

To  Rev.  A.  Clerk,  LL.D.:— 

"That  early  school  of  Campbeltown — boys  first  and  lads  afterwards — up 
to  college  days  has  had  a  deep  effect  on  me.  I  am  amazed  as  I  think  of  the 
reckless  and  affectionate  abandon  with  which  I  threw  myself  into  it !  My 
slap-dash  manner  and  words  are  its  result,  and  will  stick  to  me  more  or  less 
all  my  life." 

To  the  Same  on  the  death  of  a  very  dear  son  : — 

«'  Glasgow,  1870. 

"  ....  I  trust  you  and  Jessie  realise  the  truth  of  Adie's  life  and  love  to 
you  all.  He  is  not  unless  he  remembers,  and  as  he  does  he  loves.  I  always 
think  of  him  as  received  by  his  numerous  relations,  grandfathers  and  grand- 
mothers, aunts  and  uncles,  and  his  little  brother  grown  up  and  feeling  so 
thoroughly  at  home,  and  rejoicing  in  life  and  in  hope,  and  sustained  by  a 
great  faith  in  the  hope  of  meeting  you  all,  and  in  you  all  pleasing  God  on 
earth  as  the  highest  of  all.  I  preached  lately  on  death  in  the  light  of  Christ 
coming  for  us  and  taking  us  to  Himself,  and  on  heaven  as  a  place  prepared 


406  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

for  lis,  i.e.,  adapted  in  every  detail  to  the  feelings,  associations,  &c,  of  human 
beings,  young  and  old,  cultivated  and  ignorant.  All  this  is  necessarily 
bound  up  with  the  fact  that  He  who  was  a  child,  as  well  as  a  man,  who  lived 
among  and  loved  such  persons  as  ourselves,  must  build,  furnish,  and  adorn 
the  house  in  a  way  suitable  to  all  the  members  of  His  own  family — the  deal* 
bairns  most  of  all,  for  them  He  took  to  His  own  heart." 

His  summer  quarters  were  fixed  for  this  season  at  Java  Lodge,  in 
the  Island  of  Mull,  not  far  from  the  celebrated  ruins  of  Duart  Castle. 
The  view  from  the  coast  was  superb,  including,  what  was  to  him  of 
unfading  Literest — the  hills  of  Morven  and  distant  Fiunary,  the  scene 
of  his  earliest  and  happiest  associations. 

From  his  Journal  :— 

"Java  Lodge,  July  17,  1S70. 

"The  Assembly — for  I  must  go  back  in  my  brief  record  of  events — 
passed  oif  well.  Its  characteristic  was  its  treatment  of  questions  chiefly 
bearing  on  the  practical  life  of  the  Church.  The  Patronage  question,  though 
carried  by  a  large  majority,  did  not  excite  much  enthusiasm;  first,  because 
there  was  no  great  hope  of  Government  taking  it  up  unless  a  strong  political 
pressure  was  brought  to  bear  upon  it — this  was  not  likely  from  the  influence 
of-  political  Dissenters  on  the  elections  in  Scotland; — and,  secondly,  should  it 
be  carried,  we  felt  no  great  security  for  better  ministers  being  appointed 
than  now,  when  the  people  have  it  practically  all  their  own  way,  checked 
by  Patronage.  But  the  resolution  of  the  Assembly  put  us  in  a  better 
position  with  the  country.  Dr.  Cook,  almost  the  only  statesman  we  have, 
acted  a  very  unselfish  and  patriotic  part,  seeking  the  good  of  the  Church, 
and  not  a  party  triumph. 

"I  spoke  on  Patronage,  Christian  Life,  Home  Missions,  and  India.  I 
published  my  sermon  given  at  the  opening  of  the  Assembly.  But  how  can 
I  publish  as  I  preach  1 

£  "I  have  this  moment  heard  that  France  has  declared  war  against  Prussia. 
It  is  awful  to  think  of  the  thousands  who  are  on  this  quiet  Sunday,  here  all 
peace,  marching  to  wounds  and  death.  The  Lord  Jesus  is  over  all  !  This 
is  an  end  of  the  Napoleon  dynasty,  and  an  end  of  Pome  for  the  Pope !  So 
much  for  the  dogma  of  the  Infallibility. 

"The  Emperor  is  mad !  He  must  fail.  I  argue  that  the  French  dare 
not  cross  the  Rhine  at  Strasburg,  as  the  Prussians  will  advance  from  Cob- 
lentz  and  Maintz — these  being  magnificent  bases  of  operation — and  they 
will  thus  outflank  the  French,  and  compel  them  to  keep  to  Metz  as  their 
centre.     They  are  outnumbered,  and  must  fail. 

"August  10. — Victory,  victory  for  Prussia!  (Woerth).  We  shall  have 
the  grand  battle  east  of  Metz.  If  the  French  gain,  by  dividing  the  Prussians, 
what  then  1  It  would  be  but  momentary.  To  cross  the  Rhine  is  not  im- 
possible. But  the  French  are  outnumbered,  and  will  receive  a  terrible 
smash  !  They  will  fall  back  on  Paris,  Paris  will  revolt,  Napoleon  will  ab- 
dicate, and  in  three  weeks  be,  with  his  family,  in  London.  There  will  be  a 
Provisional  Government.     All  will  be  confusion.     The  Lord  reigns! 

"Sunday,  27lh. — What  a  glorious  day  !  I  preached  on  Missions.  These 
days  of  preaching  make  the  little  Highland   churches  the  monuments  to  me 


MODERATOPSIIIP  AND  PATRONAGE.  407 

of  the  most  happy  days  of  my  sojourn.  Never  did  the  landscape  appear 
more  magnificent ;  the  shadows  and  lights  upon  the  hills  were  unearthly 
sheen.  In  glory,  a  rainbow  rose — for  there  was  no  arch — up  from  the 
Buachaill  Etive,  and  was  such  as  the  Shekinah  may  have  appeared  to  the 
tribes  who  from  afar  looked  on  the  encampment  of  Israel.  The  sea  crisp 
with  sparkling  waves  ;  the  sky  intensely  blue,  in  great  spares  between  huge 
masses  of  cumuli  clouds,  with  some  more  sombre;  the  distant  hills  were 
near  and  clear,  as  if  seen  through  crystalline  air;  and  then,  the  lights  upon 
them !  bright  rays  lighting  up,  below,  yellow  cornfields,  and  green  pastures 
ten  miles  off,  and  above,  sometimes  a  bare  scicir  or  deep  corrie,  or  broad 
green  hill-back,  with  heavy  dark  shadows  slowly  pursuing  the  sunlight  over 
hill  and  dale.  I  beheld  Morven  along  with  Aunt  Jane.  We  gazed  to- 
gether on  the  distant  church,  beside  which  as  holy  a  family  lie  interred  as  I 
have  ever  known.  I  saw  the  trees  which  mark  Samuel  Cameron's  house, 
where  I  spent  such  happy  years,  and  received  an  education,  the  education 
of  my  beloved  ones  in  Fiunary  included,  such  as  has  moulded  my  whole 
life.  I  enjoyed  one  of  those  seasons  of  intense  and  rare  blessing  when  tears 
come  we  cannot  tell  why,  except  from  a  joy  that  rises  in  silent  prayer  and 
praise  to  the  Creator  and  Redeemer. 

"  Dear  Dr.  Craik  is  dead,  and  his  funeral  sermon  has  this  day  been 
preached.  His  illness  and  death — how  real  have  both  been  to  me  !  He  was 
a  good  man,  a  great  strength  to  the  Church,  and  a  most  sincere  friend,  and 
I  mourn  his  loss. 

'•Blessed  be  God  for  the  gathering  in  and  eternal  union  of  His  people. 
Our  friends  in  heaven  remain  the  same  persons,  with  all  their  sinless  pecu- 
liarities. They  therefore  remember  us,  and  love  us  more  than  ever.  Are 
they  interested  in  us  !  perhaps  concerned  about  us?  Why  not !  The  joy 
of  the  redeemed  is  not  a  selfish  joy.  I  would  despise  the  saint  who  enjoyed 
himself  in  a  glorious  mansion  singing  psalms,  and  who  did  not  wish  his  joy 
disturbed  by  sharing  Christ's  noble  and  grand  care  about  the  world.  So 
long  as  man,  and  my  dear  ones  are  in  '  the  current  of  the  heady  fight,'  I 
don't  wish  to  be  ignorant  of  them  on  the  ground  that  it  would  give  me  pain 
and  mar  my  joy  !  I  prefer  any  pain  to  such  joy  !  I  cannot  think  it  poss- 
ible that  my  heaven  there  shall  be  different  from  my  heaven  here,  which 
consists  in  sympathy  with  Christ.  If  He  has  a  noble  anxiety,  limited  by 
perfect  faith  in  what  is  going  on  upon  earth;  if  human  sin  is  a  reality  to 
to  Him ,  if  His  life  there  as  well  as  here  is  by  faith  in  the  Father ;  if  He 
watches  for  the  end,  and  feels  human  sin  and  sorrow,  and  rejoices  in  the 
good,  and  feels  the  awfulness  of  the  wrong,  yet  ever  has  deep  peace  in  God ; 
why  should  not  His  people  have  the  joy  of  sharing  this  Godlike  burthen  of 
struggling  humanity  ]  '  Then  cometh  the  end.'  But  the  end  is  not  yet. 
The  final  day  of  judgment  may  be  millions  of  years  hence.  Until  then  the 
whole  Church  may  have  its  education  of  labour  and  teaching  continued  in 
mighty  ventures  of  self-sacrifice,  and  in  ten  thousand  ways  put  to  the  procf, 
in  order  to  improve  those  talents  of  faith,  self-denial,  hope,  acquired  en 
earth.  This  might  imply  suffering;  why  not1?  Many  picture  a  heaven 
which  is  a  reflection  of  their  own  selfish  nature.  '  Don't  trouble  us; '  'Tell 
us  no  bad  news; '  'We  are  saved,  let  others  drown;'  '  What  is  the  earth 
to  us  1 '  '  It  is  past ;  give  us  fine  music,  fine  scenery,  and  let  the  earth — 
shall  I  write  it  1 — go  to  the  devil ! '  That  is  not  my  heaven!  I  wish  to  know, 
1  wish  to  feel,  I  wish  to  share   Christ's  sympathies,  until  the  end  comes. 


$ 

403  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"  The  idea  that  Dr.  Craik  no  longer  cares  about  Missions  to  India,  would 
give  me  a  poor  idea  of  a  heaven  of  sympathy  with  Jesus  Christ." 

To  Mrs.  Drummond,  Megginch  Castle: — 

"Isle  of  Mull,  27th  August,  1870. 

"  I  am  in  retreat,  banished  to  a  spot  beyond  space,  and  where  time  merges 
into  eternity.  Posts  are  rare.  Their  news  is  post  mortem — dead — belong- 
ing to  a  past  world  history  !  Your  kind  note  arrived  here  long  after  Dean 
Stanley  had  become  Archbishop,  and  the  Established  Church  destroyed. 
To  have  met  him  in  your  house  would  have  been  a  true  delight  to  me,  but 
I  was  and  am  still  in  Mull,  and  where  Mull  is,  no  one  knows  except  Sir 
Roderick  Murchison,  who  knows  everything,  and  he  only  guesses  about  it ; 
so  I  can  only  express  my  great  regret  at  having  been  so  far  away,  and  thus 
deprived  of  such  good  company.  There  was  a  foolish  report  spread  here 
this  morning  about  a  chance  whaler,  that  a  war  had  broken  out  in  Europe, 
that  the  French  had  taken  Berlin,  and,  after  landing  at  Aberdeen,  were 
marching  on  Glasgow.  If  this  is  true,  I  won't  leave  Mull  until  peace  is 
proclaimed ;  but  if  the  news  proves  a  canard,  as  I  think  quite  possible,  I 
shall  return  this  week  to  Glasgow,  which  I  hope  to  reach  six  weeks  after 
the  world,  according  to  John  Gumming,  is  consumed  !  " 

To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Young  : — 

"August,  1870. 

"  As  to  sudden  death  I  never  could  pray  to  be  delivered  from  it,  but  only 
to  be  ready  for  it.  God  alone  who  knows  our  frame  and  temperament, 
knows  by  what  death  we  can  best  glorify  Him.  Sudden  death  may  to 
many  be  a  great  mercy." 

To  A.  Strahan,  Esq: — 

"Java  Lodge,  August,  1S70. 

"  What  an  evening  of  glory  !  The  lights,  the  hills,  the  castled  promontory 
are  as  of  old,  and  years  too  have  fled,  and  Ossian  is  old  also. 

"  What  a  dinner  awaited  you  !     Flags  flying,  chickens  delicate  as  sonnets 

of  Miss ,  vegetables  as  many  as  the  articles  on ,  and  far  more 

digestible.     Champagne  with  a  brilliancy  and   bouquet    that  rivalled  the 

papers  of  the  editor,  rice  pudding  as  pure  and  wholesome  as 's  sermons. 

While  every  hill  looked  down,  and  every  coney  opened  its  eyes,  and  the 
fish  swam  and  the  ocean  murmured,  and  the  red  deer  got  white,  all  with 
excitement  to  see — what  1  Your  arrival  that  arrived  not,  Oh,  it  was  sad, 
sad  !" 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  War !  How  strange  that  war  has  formed  the  subject  of  our  oldest 
poems,  paintings,  and  histories,  that  it  is  at  this  moment  as  terrible  as  ever  1 
What  does  it  mean  1  How  can  we  account  for  its  existence,  its  apparent 
necessity  in  the  kingdom  of  God  ?  It  does  not  imply  any  personal  hate 
whatever,  no  more  than  the  execution  of  a  malefactor  does  cruelty  and  love 
of  blood.  The  bravest  soldier  is  associated  with  the  gentleman,  and  highest 
chivalry.  It  seems  to  me  that  lawful  Avar,  as  distinct  from  war  of  passion, 
originates  in  what  appears  to  be  a  social  law.     That  as  God  wishes  mankind 


MODERATURSIIIP  AND  PATRONAGE,  400 

to  be  divided  into  nations  smaller  or  greater,  and  as  no  nation  ought  to  exist 
in  -which  there  is  not  government,  and  as  governmenl  implies  power  to  pro- 
tect life  and  property  and  enforce  its  laws,  so  must  the  more  powerful 
govern  for  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number.  Who  the  most  power- 
ful are  can  be  determined  only  by  war,  unless  the  weak  give  in.  Jt  is  by 
this  law  of  the  weak  giving  way  to  the  strong,  by  this  sifting  process  of  war, 
that  our  clans  have  been  absorbed  into  a  small  nation,  and  small  nations 
into  a  great  one,  strong  enough  to  hold  its  own.  Any  race,  or  any  pcop'e 
have,  therefore,  a  perfect  abstract  right  to  assert  its  superiority,  or  inde- 
pendence, if  it  is  superior  ;  but  war  alone  can  determine  that,  if  the  fact  is 
disputed.  In  the  long-run  as  a  rule,  each  successive  great  advance  in  the 
world's  civilization  and  progress  has  been  the  result  of  war.  Battles  are 
great  sacrifices  preceding  resurrections.  What  man  designs  is  one  thing,  and 
what  God  brings  to  pass  is  another.  This  great  war  is  really  to  determine 
not  whether  Louis  Napoleon  is  to  be  Emperor,  but  whether  the  Latin  or 
Teutonic  race  is  to  be  strongest  inEurope  and  the  world  ! 

"  As  to  '  the  inventions  for  murdering  people  ' — this  is  all  nonsense. 
Every  contribution  made  by  science  to  improve  instruments  of  war  makes 
war  shorter,  and  in  the  end  less  terrible  to  human  life,  and  human  progress. 
Never  was  the  ameliorating  influences  of  education  and  Christian  bene- 
volence more  visible  than  in  this  war.  The  more  that  kingdoms  are  much 
about  the  same  strength,  the  less  likely  is  war.  And,  by  the  way,  it  is  an 
index  of  a  time  when  one  state  will  respect  its  neighbour,  that  the  tendency 
of  all  improvements  in  guns,  &c,  is  to  make  defence  in  an  increasing  latio 
more  powerful  than  attack.  But  the  ultimate  defence  must  be  in  man,  for 
nations  are  really  strong  not  in  machinery  but  in  man.  Their  manhood 
must  alone  or  chiefly  determine  their  freedom  and  independence. 

"  'Peace  at  any  price'  is  but  selfish  indulgence  at  any  price.  Liberty 
and  self-government  at  any -price  !     Life  is  of  no  value  without  freedom." 

To  A.  Strahan,  Esq. : — 

"  I  so  hate  those  eternal  love  stories,  this  everlasting  craving  after  a  sweet- 
heart !  I  wish  they  would  marry  in  the  first  chapter,  and  be  done  with  it. 
Is  there  nothing  to  interest  human  beings  but  marriage  1  What  a  fuss  to 
make  about  those  two  when  in  love  !" 

To  A.  Strahan,  Esq  : — 

"  Whatever  may  be  my  fault,  it  does  not  consist  in  my  chariot-wheels 
tarrying  ;  as  the  following  statement  will  prove : — 

"Friday,  31st  September. — Left  Glasgow  for  Aberdeen  at  nine,  p.m., 
arrived  at  Aberdeen  at  three,  A.M. 

"  Saturday,  1st  October. — Left  for  Balmoral.     Dined  with  Her  Majesty. 

"  October  2. — Preached  a  sermon  on  '  War  and  God's  Judgments,'  which 
the  Queen  asks  me  to  publish,  and  to  dedicate  to  herself,  as  soon  as  possible 
— not  a  line  having  been  written. 

"  October  3. — Joined  my  wife  in  Perthshire,  dead  beat. 

"  October  4. — Rested  my  chariot- wheels  and  greased  them. 

"  October  5. — Returned  to  Glasgow,  and  answered  twenty  letters ;  wrote 
long  Minutes  for  Sealkote  and  Calcutta  ;  had  prayer-meeting  in  the  evening. 

"  October  6. — Commanded  by  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  left  at  seven,  a.m.. 


410  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

for  Dunrobin,  220  miles  off.  Dined  at  half-past  nine,  left  the  drawing-room 
at  half-past  one,  a.m.,  and  smoking-room  at  half- past  three.  Left  per  train 
at  six,  a.m.,  and  never  halted  five  minutes,  being  past  time,  until  I  reached 
Glasgow  at  half-past  six,  p.m. 

"  October  7. — A  weary  Saturday,  to  prepare  two  new  sermons  for  Sunday 
amidst  manifold  interruptions. 

"  October  8. — Preached  twice. 

"  October  9. — Again  dead  beat,  and  went  to  see  my  old  mother  the  first 
time  for  six  weeks. 

"  October  10. — Returned,  and  received  a  letter  from  a  patient  friend, 
asking.   '  Why  tarry  thy  chariot-wheels  V  ! ! ! ! 

"  Bother  the  chariot-wheels  ! 

"  I  am  as  nervous  as  an  old  cat.** 

To  A.  Strahax,  Esq  :— 

"  I  am  more  anxious  about  Good  Words  than  perhaps  even  you  are.  It 
is  one  of  my  heaviest  hourly  worries,  how  little  I  have  been  able  to  do  it. 
As  a  public  man  I  am  worked  from  6  a.m.  till  10  p.m.,  and  if  a  man  must 
be  occupied  twenty-four  hours  in  killing  rats  or  planting  carrots  it  is  prac- 
tically the  same  to  him,  as  far  as  time  is  concerned,  as  if  he  were  attacking 
Paris'." 


To  his  Eldest  Son  : — 


"1st  December,  1870 


''■  I  was  very  glad,  my  boy,  to  hear  from  you,  and  that  you  have  told  me 
so  well  and  fully  all  you  are  about.  I  am  quite  satisfied  with  everything, 
and  pray  God  that  you  may  be  able  to  form  those  habits  of  study  and  of 
mastering  difficulties,  and  of  persevering  in  what  may  be  uncongenial  but 
necessary  for  you,  all  of  which  is  of  such  importance.  You  are,  in  fact, 
now  moulding  your  whole  future  life.  May  it  be  worthy  !  Never,  never 
forget  your  daily  dependence  on  God  and  His  interest  in  you.  The  Stock- 
port panic  might  have  had  a  fearful  ending,  but  it  was  stopped  in  time — 
3,000,  three  stories  up,  and  but  one  stair  of  outlet,  with  the  panic  of  fire  !  * 

"  I  am  giving  the  last  corrections  to  the  sermon  on  war.  When  you 
read  it,  it  will  appear  very  simple  to  you,  and  easily  written.  But  it  may 
encourage  you  to  know  that  this  is  the  seventh  time,  at  least,  I  have  cor- 
rected it,  and  each  time  just  as  fully  as  the  previous  one.  So  difficult  do  I 
find  it  to  write  with  tolerable  accuracy.     Begin  soon  !  " 

To  Mrs.  Warrick,  New  York. 

"Glasgow,  December  loth,  1870 

"  I  heard  all  about  your  great  sorrow,  all  those  pleasing  yet  harrowing 
d etuis  which  make  one  realise  the  whole  scene.  Such  an  affliction  is  to  us 
a  profound  mystery.  This  seems  to  me  the  lesson  taught  by  the  Book  of 
Job,  for  Job  never  found  out  in  this  world  why  he  had  been  afflicted, 
although  he  knew  that  it  was  not  because  of  his  individual  sins  (and  he 
was  right),  but  in  order  to  bring  out  the  reality  of  his  life  in  God  ;  yet  he 

*  lie  refers  to  a  panic  which  look  place  while  he  was  preaching  at  Stockport  on  behalf 
of  his  Sunday  School  Union,  when  his  presence  of  mind  and  calmness  did  much  to  pre- 
serve oid-ir. 


M0DERAT0RS1IIP  AND  PATRONAGE.  411 

was  left  in  darkness,  and  although  sons  and  daughters  were  given  him,  tho 
old  dear  ones  were  seen  no  more.  And  there  are  like  times  of  darkness  in 
which  the  servant  of  the  Lord  can  see  no  light,  but  must  be  cast  on  the 
bare  arm  of  God  for  strength,  and  on  the  heart  of  God  for  peace.  Yet  we 
can  never  be  in  such  pitch  darkness  as  Job  was,  now  that  we  see  God's  own 
beloved  Son  as  the  man  of  sorrows ;  and  in  Him  have  the  assurance  given 
us  of  a  Father  who  will  ever  act  as  a  Father  even  in  sending  grief,  who 
never  acts  arbitrarily,  but  who  appeals  to  the  heart  of  the  most  tender  and 
loving  parent  to  judge  from  his  own  truest  affection  towards  his  children,  as 
to  what  He  who  is  perfect  love,  feels  towards  themselves.  Faith  in  this 
God  is  our  only  refuge  and  strength  in  times  of  dark  and  mysterious  sorrow. 

"  I  am  utterly  powerless  to  help at   Chicago.     I  never  directly   or 

indirectly  asked  a  favour  small  or  great  from  court  or  government,  and 
never  will.  I  am  tongue-tied  and  hand-tied ;  having  so  much  intercourse 
with  both,  this  seems  strange,  but  it  is  a  fact." 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

1871—72. 

r  I  ^IIE  last  years  of  his  life  were  marked  by  the  maimer  in  which  both 
JL  his  character  and  convictions  ripened.  There  was  no  diminu- 
tion of  the  wealth  of  his  humour,  and  his  enjoyment  of  outward 
things  was  keen  and  fresh,  though  tinged  with  a  certain  pensive  and 
recurrent  sadness.  But  as  his  health  became  more  broken,  the  sense 
of  approaching  age,  the  brevity  of  the  time  given  him  to  work  seemed 
continually  present,  and  lent  an  increased  earnestness  and  thoughtful 
care  to  the  fulfilment  of  the  most  commonplace  duty.  He  spoke  and 
acted  as  one  who  knew  "  the  time  was  short." 

His  health  was  gradually  but  decidedly  becoming  infirm.  In  the 
spring  of  1871  he  had  so  severe  an  attack  of  his  old  enemy  that  he  was 
for  some  time  confined  to  bed,  and  his  strength  was  so  much  impaired 
that  his  brother,  Professor  Macleod,  forbade  his  undertaking  any 
engagements  which  implied  fatigue.  At  the  end  of  April,  on  Sir 
William  Jenner's  advice,  he  Avent  to  Ems,  and  for  a  time  found  much 
benefit  from  rest  and  from  the  waters  of  the  famous  Briinnen.  In 
summer  he  and  his  family  spent  their  holiday  at  Geddes,  the  early 
home  of  Mrs.  Macleod,  and  doubly  precious  to  him  as  associated  with 
many  memories  of  John  Mackintosh.  It  was  a  happy  time,  and  he 
regained  so  much  of  his  old  health  and  spirits,  that  on  the  return  of 
the  family  to  Glasgow  he  was  able  to  enter  with  considerable  vigour 
on  his  winter's  work. 

There  were  some  things  which  specially  coloured  his  later  thoughts. 
He  was  deeply  moved  by  the  condition  of  religious  belief  in  academic 
and  literary  circles.  As  he  had  opportunities  possessed  by  few  clergy- 
men, of  becoming  acquainted  with  current  opinion,  not  merely  from 
books,  but  by  intercourse  with  representative  men,  his  interest  in  the 
religious  difficulties  of  many  scholars  and  thinkers  was  proportionately 
ksen.  His  anxieties  regarding  such  matters  frequently  found  vent  in 
l.imentations  over  the  ignorance  or  indifference  of  ecclesiastics  in 
Scotland  as  to  all  questions  except  the  most  trivial.  "  They  are 
squabbling  about  the  United  Presbyterian,  Free  Church,  or  Established 
when  the  world  is  asking  whether  Christ  is  risen  from  the  dead  !" 

India  and  the  condition  of  the  heathen  were  subjects  which  he  was 
never  weary  of  pondering  by  himself,  or  of  discussing  with  his  friends. 


1871-72.  413 

The  impression  his  Eastern  journey  had  made  on  him  was  pro!  >uhd» 
and  showed  itself  latterly  in  an  incessant  study  of  the  problems  which 
the  spectacle  of  so  many  millions  of  brothers  and  sisters  living  in 
heathendom  suggested,  lie  had  not  looked  on  these  millions  with  the 
eye  of  a  dogmatist  who  measures  all  lie  sees  by  the  scale  of  a  hard, 
scholastic  theory,  lie  did  not  ask  how  they  stood  related  to  some 
theological  tenet,  but  rather  "What  are  these  men  and  women  to  the 
living  (!od  ?"  lie  had  tried  to  understand  the  flesh  and  blood  affinities, 
the  prejudices,  difficulties,  aspirations  of  the  Hindoo  mind,  and  to 
comprehend  as  far  as  possible  a  humanity  which  had  grown  up  under 
conditions  so  different  from  those  which  had  moulded  his  own.  The 
effect  of  all  this  was  to  lead  him  back  to  first  principles,  to  oblige  him 
to  deal  with  the  mind  of  the  personal  Saviour,  as  of  more  account  than 
Church  formularies.  His  theology  had  ever  been  centred  in  the 
character  of  God  as  revealed  in  Christ,  and  he  instinctively  now 
referred  every  doubtful  question  to  this  ultimate  standard.  "  l)o  you 
think  it  would  be  like  Christ  so  to  act  ? "  or,  "  From  all  you  know  of 
God,  do  you  think  it  would  be  like  Him  to  do  that  ?" — with  such 
questions,  as  many  of  his  hearers  remember,  it  was  his  habit  to  clinch 
many  an  argument  when  addressing  his  congregation  in  the  Barony. 
To  him  therefore  it  was  anything  but  glad  tidings  to  preach  to  the 
educated  natives  of  Hindostan  that  all  their  parents  and  ancestors 
were  suffering  the  pains  of  hell  because  they  had  not  believed  in  One 
of  whom  they  had  never  heard,  or  to  declare  to  them  that  their  own 
ultimate  salvation  depended  on  their  acceptance  of  some  theory  of 
atonement  which  was  beset  with  intellectual  and  moral  difficulties. 
On  behalf  of  England's  greatest  dependency,  he  longed  to  see  mission- 
aries intent  upon  bringing  these  human  hearts  into  living  contact  with 
the  love,  the  holiness,  the  character  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  who  would  let 
the  New  Testament  speak  its  own  language  to  their  spirits,  rather  than 
through  the  medium  of  a  system  of  theology.  Such  reflections  on  the 
state  of  the  heathen,  inspired,  as  they  were,  by  love  to  man  and  firm 
reliance  on  the  righteousness  and  goodness  of  God,  opened  up  to  him 
a  new  region  of  thought  as  to  the  character  of  the  future  state,  and 
the  possibility  of  a  gospel  being  preached  to  those  who,  in  this  life, 
had  never  an  opportunity  of  accepting  or  rejecting  the  truth  as  it  is  in 
Christ. 

The  following  notes  of  a  sermon  preached  in  September,  1871, 
indicate  the  tendency  of  his  views  respecting  the  condition  of  the 
heathen  beyond  the  grave  : — 

"  What  is  to  become  of  those  who  never  have  heard  of,  or  have  never 
had  opportunities  of  hearing  of  God,  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost— who 
have  never  heard  of  that  tnith  which  to  us  is  inseparable  from  all  our 
thoughts  of  salvation  1  Of  these  there  are  millions  upon  millions,  thousands 
of  millions,  who  have  since  creation  lived  and  died,  and  passed  away  into 
the  unseen.  There  are  hundreds  of  millions  now  alive  in  the  same  condi- 
tion in  the  kingdoms  of  heathendom :  more    numerous  than    any  human 


•±U  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

mind  can  conceive.  In  addition  to  these,  there  are  millions  in  Christendom 
who,  from  the  circumstances  of  their  birth  and  up-bringing,  are  as  practic- 
ally ignorant,  who  never  had  the  means  of  making  any  conscious  choice 
between  the  claims  of  God  on  their  affection  and  obedience,  and  the  demands 
of  sin  and  of  every  evil  passion — to  whose  thoughts  it  would  make  no 
practical  difference  if  all  we  know,  love,  and  rejoice  in  regarding  God  waa 
never  heard  or  known  :  no  more  than  the  extinction  of  the  sun  would  make 
any  practical  difference  to  a  blind  man's  eye.  Such  a  question  is  tremen- 
,  painful,  oppressive,  often  agonising — even  when  feebly  understood. 
AVe  are  disposed,  from  our  utter  inability  to  take  in  its  momentous  impor- 
tance, to  make  a  positive  effort  to  put  it  away.  Such  a  fact  as  thousands 
of  millions  of  human  beings  existing  now,  and  existing  for  eternity,  some- 
vJtcre,  makes  hardly  an  impression  upon  our  minds.  We  feel,  in  trying  to 
realise  it,  as  if  the  finite  tried  to  comprehend  the  infinite,  and  so  we  dismiss 
the  whole  question.  But  when  the  complex  idea  is  resolved  into  its  de- 
tails ;  when  we  think  of  one  human  being,  with  all  our  own  powers  and 
capacities  for  thinking,  understanding,  remembering,  anticipating,  hoping, 
fearing,  rejoicing,  suffering,  being  holy  as  a  saint  or  wicked  as  a  devil ;  a 
being  made  after  God's  image,  and  therefore  so  far  divine ;  an  object  of 
more  interest  andimportance  to  God  his  Maker  than  the  material  universe  ; 
and  such  a  being  growing  up  from  infancy  with  as  distinct  and  individual 
a  history  as  ourselves,  a  being,  too,  who  is  for  ever  responsible,  and  can 
for  ever  please  God  and  meet  His  wishes,  or  the  reverse — then  do  we  in 
some  degree  feel  that  any  question  affecting  him  is  not  a  question  regarding 
a  mere  thing,  however  interesting,  like  the  pi'eservation  or  destruction  of  a 
great  picture,  a  grand  column,  or  stately  palace,  but  regarding  a  person,  an 
immortal  being,  the  noblest  specimen  of  the  art  of  God,  the  greatest  build- 
ing of  His  hands,  and  intended  to  be  a  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  But 
much  more  does  our  interest  increase  if  we  are  personally  accpiainted  with 
such  a  being  ;  if  Ave  have  come  into  contact  with  him  so  as  to  realise  fully 
our  common  humanity,  and  to  sympathize  with  his  bodily  sufferings  or 
mental  sorrows.  Yet  what  would  our  interest  be  if  this  "person  were  a 
father,  or  mother,  or  child,  or  our  individual  selves  !  We  could  not  then 
think  of  such  an  one's  fate  for  ever,  as  we  would  that  of  a  stone  which,  cast 
into  the  great  deep,  sinks  and  passes  at  once  out  of  sight  and  out  of  memory. 
But  what  this  unit  is  to  us,  each  unit  of  the  whole  mass  of  humanity,  from 
Adam  to  the  thousands  who  have  been  born  and  died  since  we  entered 
church,  is  inconceivably  more  to  God.  Not  one  is  lost  to  his  sight,  not  one 
ever  becomes  to  Him  of  less  importance  as  an  immortal  being;  and  just  as 
we  realise  this,  the  question  will  press  itself  with  increasing  force  on  us, 
what  is  to  become  of  them  1  We  cannot  get  cpiit  of  it.  We  may  do  so  in 
regard  to  the  race,  but  we  cannot  in  regard  to  those  units  of  which  the  race 
is  composed,  and  many  a  perplexed  mind,  and  many  a  weary,  anxious  heart 
yearns  for  an  answer. 

"  Many  object  to  bring  such  questions  into  the  pulpit  at  all.  Is  there 
not,  it  is  asked,  enough  that  is  clear,  simple,  and  of  infinite  importance, 
sufficient  to  occupy  with  profit  the  short  time  allotted  on  the  Lord's-day  for 
public  instruction,  and  for  the  conviction  and  conversion  of  sinners  now, 
without  putting  difficulties  inLo  people's  minds,  or  raising  doubts  which  it 
may    be  impossible    to   dispell     I  deeply    sympathize   with  this,  and  my 


1371—72.  415 

whole  teaching  testifies  to  the  sincerity  of  my  sympathy,  to  the  earnestness 

of  ray  desire  that  it  should  be  simple  and  practical,  and  to  avoid  as  mucl 
possible  all  doubtful  disputations,  and  to  aim  constantly  at  one  thing— to 
bring  souls  to  God.  And  I  know  well  bow  superficially  any  such  questions 
c;ii  be  dealt  with  in  a  sermon.  But  in  these  days  men  need  not  avoid  go- 
ing  to  church  to  avoid  doubts  being  suggested.  We  have  entered  a  pe]  1 
of  active  thought,  such  as  has  not  existed  since  the  Reformation.  Theo- 
logical questions  on  every  truth  of  Christianity  are,  within  the  last  fi  \v 
years,  forced  upon  men's  notice  in  every  periodical  down  to  the  daily 
papers.  Men  cannot  avoid  them,  but  they  may  avoid  church  if  no  help 
whatever  is  given  to  them  there  to  solve  their  doubts,  and  to  guide  tin 
truth,  and  to  deal  kindly  and  candidly  and  intelligently  with  their  diffi- 
culties. For  such  difficulties  many  true  Christians  have  little  sympathy. 
They  have  sympathies  with  struggles  against  evil  deeds  or  habits,  but  not 
with  such  doubts  as  bewildered  the  mind  of  St.  Thomas  when  he  refused  to 
believe  in  the  resurrection.  These  Christians,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  have 
been  blessed  with  such  a  disposition,  or  have  been  placed  in  such  circum- 
stances, whether  of  early  up-bringing,  or  of  gospel  preaching,  as  have  ena- 
bled them  to  grow  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord.  But 
there  are  others  differently  placed,  and  if  a  minister  can  help  such  inquirers  ; 
if  he  can  show  them  that  he  understands  their  difficulties,  if  he  feels  with 
them  as  a  brother,  if  he  preaches  not  merely  what  is  given  him  to  utter,  as 
if  he  were  a  machine,  but  what  he  believes  and  feels  as  one  who  has  to  woik 
his  way  through  difficulties  like  others ;  if  he  has  felt  '  the  burden  of  the 
mystery  ;'  if  lie  can  put  them  in  the  way  of  getting  the  truth  ;  if,  in  short, 
he  can  strengthen  their  faith  in  God  and  in  Jesus  as  their  teacher,  he  will 
be  of  some  use,  and  in  spite  of  many  defects  and  even  errors,  be  a  true  aid 
to  his  fellow  men. 

"...  To  believe  that  God  should  create  by  His  power  millions  of  re- 
sponsible beings,  who  are  doomed  to  agonies  for  ever  for  not  believing  or 
not  being  what,  from  circumstances  over  which  they  had  no  control,  they 
could  not  believe  or  be,  seems  to  many  earnest  minds  quite  impossible. 

"...  Is  there,  then,  the  possibility  of  the  education  of  human  beings, 
of  those  at  least  who  have  never  had  the  means  of  knowing  the  truth,  and 
of  choosing  between  light  and  darkness,  of  believing  in  or  neglecting  Christ, 
being  continued  after  death  1  Whatever  weight  is  attached  to  this  reply, 
whatever  deliverance  it  may  afford  to  distressed  souls,  whatever  light  it  may 
cast  on  the  character  and  purposes  of  God  as  revealed  in  Christ  (and  it  is 
held  by  increasing  numbers  of  the  best  men  in  this  and  other  ages  of  the 
Church),  let  us  understand  at  least  what  it  means.  It  does  not  mean  that 
there  is  not  to  be  a  day  of  judgment,  after  which  the  fate  of  every  individual 
of  the  human  family  is  to  be  finally  determined.  But  when  is  this  period 
to  dawn1?  It  may  be  thousands,  it  may  be  millions,  of  years  ere  the  end 
comes  when  Christ  shall  have  delivered  up  the  kingdom  to  God  the  Father. 
Whatever  may  be  done  towards  such  human  spirits  as  we  have  spoken  of, 
it  is  assumed  to  be  before  that.  Nor  does  it  mean  that  any  man  can  be 
saved  here  or  afterwards  in  a  way  essentially  different  from  that  in  which, 
he  is  saved  now,  except  it  may  be  by  severer  chastisement  and  a  more 
trying  discipline.  It  assumes  that  there  is  a  connection  unchangeable  and 
eternal  as  the  law  or  character  of  God,  between  sin  and  spiritual  suffering. 


416  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

This  must  show  itself  in  the  want  of  peace,  joy,  hope,  and  all  that  glory  of 
character  of  which  man  was  created,  and  in  the  ravages  of  spiritual  disease, 
in  deformity  of  soul,  in  blindness,  deafness,  and  moral  decrepitude.  Conse- 
quently, come  when  it  may,  in  this  world  or  the  next ;  or  how  it  may,  by 
teaching  or  by  chastisement ;  or  when  it  may,  in  three  score  and  ten  years 
or  in  hundreds  of  years,  there  must  be  a  conviction  of  sin  as  sin,  a  repent- 
ance towards  God,  a  seeing  His  love,  and  a  choice  of  Himself  as  God, 
through  the  redemption  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  before  salvation  is  possible. 

"  .  .  .  But  it  is  asked  what  there  is  in  Scripture  to  forbid  the  belief 
which  a  sense  of  God's  love  of  righteousness  in  them  craves  for,  that,  may 
be,  the  term  of  education  with  millions  of  the  heathen,  and  of  the  ignorant, 
who  have  been  neglected  by  selfish  men,  may  not  terminate  with  three  score 
and  ten  years  !  It  is  not  said  that  it  must  be  so,  but  it  is  alleged  that,  for 
aught  we  know,  it  may  be  so.  We  are  reminded  that  each  person  as  he 
dies  lives  on — seen  and  known  by  God,  and  is  the  object  of  His  interest 
somewhere — that  wherever  he  is,  he  is  as  responsible  there  as  here  ;  and  it 
is  asked  whether  that,  to  us  unseen, — but  to  them  most  real,  state  of  being, 
— as  real  as  if  it  existed  in  a  material  world  like  this, — is  necessarily  an 
abode  of  hopeless  unmitigated  woe  for  such  persons  as  I  have  alluded  to ; 
whether  God's  infinite  resources  are  at  an  end  in  regard  to  them,  and 
whether  truth  may  not  be  made  known  there  which  was  never  heard  here — 
a  G'od  revealed  who  was  unknown  here,  a  Saviour  proclaimed  with  a  fulness, 
tenderness,  love,  and  all  sufficiency,  who  has  never  once  preached  to  them 
here ;  and  whether,  as  the  result  of  this,  the  kingdom  of  God  may  not  yet 
come  in  a  way  that  we  never  dreamt  of — and,  alas  !  never  in  our  wretched 
and  degraded  feebleness  and  unbelief  ever  laboured  for  ? 

"  Many  reject  this  thought.  I  remember  the  time  when  ministers  could 
entertain  the  idea  of  God  condemning  an  infant  to  eternal  misery  from  its 
connection  with  Adam — an  opinion  which  is  as  horrible  as  any  occurring  in 
Brahminism. 

"  Who  would  not  wish  the  hope,  whose  character  I  have  sketched,  to  be 
time  !  Who  would  not  feel  a  great  relief  if  they  only  saw  that  it  may  be 
true!     .  .     I  have  some  sympathy  with  the  fanatic  Communist  who 

calmly  stands  to  be  shot,  shouting,  '  Let  me  perish,  if  humanity  is  saved  ! ' 
I  may  not  see  how,  without  faith  in  God  the  Father,  or  in  Christ  the  Brother, 
he  can  obtain  any  true  idea  of  humanity  as  a  unity,  or  any  real  love  to  it : 
but  still  there  is  something  grand  in  such  an  idea  rising  higher  than  his 
personal  love  of  life.  But  where  is  there  similar  grandeur  in  him  who,  pi*o- 
fessing  to  have  this  faith,  has  not  only  lost  all  hope  of  humanity  as  a  whole, 
but  rests  contented  in  his  hopelessness;  who  seems  to  think  that  any  such 
hope  of  the  probable  salvation  of  others  through  Jesus  perils  his  own,  and 
looks  with  nervous  fear  and  jealousy  at  the  thought  of  any  future  opening 
of  the  door  of  the  awful  prison-house  to  deliver  a  penitent  soul,  who  never 
in  life  had  heard  of  Christ,  as  if  this  made  it  possible  that  a  door  might  be 
opened  for  his  own  fall ;  who,  in  spite  of  all  his  defects,  all  his  sins,  all  his 
greed,  all  his  heartlessness,  all  his  selfishness,  has  hope  through  the  long 
suffering,  forbearance,  and  patience  of  God,  and  who  yet  feels  indifferent  or 
indignant  at  the  thought  of  there  being  possibly  ways  and  means  for  this 
same  God  acting  in  mercy  to  millions  of  miserable  prodigals  who  never  had 
His  light — a  man  who  cries  out,  not  like  the  Communist,  '  Perish  myself, 
but  live  humanity,'  but,  '  Perish  humanity,  if  I  live  myself! ' 


1871—72.  417 

"  But  the  view  I  speak  of  may  be  dismissed  by  the  one  assertion  that  it 
is  contrary  to  Scripture.  If  so,  it  is  not  worthy  of  the  consideration  of  those 
who  acknowledge,  as  I  do,  the  supreme  authority  of  the  word  of  God.  But 
Christian  teachers  hold  it  who  would  sooner  give  up  their  life  than  the 
authority  of  Scripture.  They  think  that  the  passages  which  seem  to  forbid 
the  thought  have  reference  to  what  is  to  happen  after  judgment  only. 

"  The  possibility  of  such  an  education  beyond  the  grave  is  also  what  the 
early  Church  and  many  since  believed  to  be  the  only  possible  meaning  that 
could  be  attached  to  the  preaching  to  the  spirits  that  are  in  prison,  and 
which  has  found  a  place  in  the  creed  of  Christendom  in  the  article,  ;  lie 
descended  into  hell,'  to  the  unseen  regions,  or  the  world  of  spirits.     .     .     ." 

To  Dr.  Macleod  Campbell  : — 

"March  16,  1871. 

"It  was  so  kind  of  you,  and  therefore  so  like  yourself,  to  have  taken  the 
trouble  to  write  to  me.  There  is  no  one  living  who  can  so  minister  to  me 
as  you  can.  You  always  find  my  spirit,  and  enter  into  me,  while  others 
only  touch  me.  I  therefore  feel  towards  you  as  to  no  one  eke,  both  as  friend 
and  teacher.  If  ever  you  have  seed  you  wish  to  sow  in  a  soil  that  will  re- 
ceive it  and  keep  it,  please  cast  it  this  way.  Oh,  that  you  sent  me  now  and 
then  a  few  life  thoughts  !     How  precious  would  they  be  ! 

"  I  have  had  a  sharp  and  very  painful  attack  of  gout  with  sciatica  as  an 
interlude,  and  other  pains  for  a  change.  This  is  the  first  day  I  have  been 
out,  for  a  drive  ;  and  the  blue  sky  and  budding  earth  came  streaming  in  as 
a  life-joy  to  my  heart,  which  showed  that  the  veil  was  lifted  up  which  had 
been  concealing  from  me  things  beautiful,  'for  I  saw  nor  felt  how  beautiful 
they  were.'  I  cannot  say  that  spiritual  realities  were  vividly  present  to  me 
during  my  illness  ;  but  I  always  felt  God  as  a  living  atmosphere  around  me, 
and  I  was  filled  with  peace.  The  lesson  I  think  He  is  teaching  me  is  to 
take  more  care  in  glorifying  Him  in  the  body,  and  to  make  my  common  life 
of  work  more  religious  by  my  living  more  quietly,  patiently,  and  obediently. 
One  result  of  this  education  is,  that  I  have  resolved  not  to  go  to  Lord  Lome's 
marriage.  This  a  great  loss  in  very  many  ways  to  me,  as  I  have  been  asked 
to  be  a  guest  at  Windsor;  but  my  brother  George  says  'No,'  and  so  I  say 
'Amen !'  and  feel  at  rest.  When  the  Communion  is  over,  I  shall  probably 
go  to  some  Spa  abroad,  and  di'own  the  enemy  if  possible.  I  am  too  easily 
bothered  and  upset  by  even  trifling  work.  When  I  was  confined  to  bed,  I 
read  and  was  fascinated  by  Hutton's  '  Theological  Essays.'  To  me,  reading 
such  a  book  is  an  era.  He  has  such  a  firm  intellectual  grip  with  one  hand  of 
the  true  scientific  aspects  of  questions,  and  with  the  other  holds  fast,  with 
true  spiritual  insight,  to  his  position  of  '  God  in  Christ.'  With  his  anchor 
fast  within  the  veil,  he  swings  round  and  round  with  a  long  cable,  but  always 
round  the  centre.  I  think  it  is  a  great  contribution  to  the  times,  but  I  cannot 
understand  how  he  should  not  welcome  your  views  of  the  atonement,  as  they 
seem  to  me  to  harmonize  so  beautifully  with  his  principles  and  his  views  of 
truth.     I  am  glad  that  he  adheres  to  the  fourth  Gospel. 

"  What  a  mystery  is  this  slow — to  us  slow — growth  in  the  education  of 
the  world  !  It  would  be  to  me  still  more  mysterious,  if  it  were  not  to  be 
continued  till  Christ  delivers  up  the  kingdom.  'Then  conieth  the  end.' 
When — what?     No  doubt  to  the  glory  of  God  in  a  way  and  measure  such 

27 


418  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

as  to  overpower  the  minds  and  hearts  of  the  whole  family  of  God.  I  wait 
in  the  full  assurance  of  faith.  How  strange,  too — how  long  the  clouds  lin- 
ger in  the  blue  sky,  which  nevertheless  are  as  surely  passing  away  as  the 
morning  mists  before  His  love.  It  is  sweet  to  think  that  such  darkness  con- 
ceals us  not  from  the  Light  of  Life.  But  the  common  notion  of  the  punish- 
ment of  hell  fire,  and  for  all  eternity ;  the  punishment  of  all  who  have  not 
been  elected,  and  have,  for  Adam's  sin,  been  j vistly  left  dead  without  an 
atonement ;  the  atonement  itself  as  explained  by  hyper-C'alvinists ;  the  utter- 
impossibility  of  any  teaching  or  salvation  after  death  (how  we  may  not  see); 
these,  and  the  whole  complicated  system  of  sacerdotalism  and  popery,  seem 
to  me  a  thousand  times  doomed.  And  yet,  God  is  so  wise,  so  charitable,  so 
patient,  such  a  Father,  that  even  by  these  ideas,  or  in  spite  of  them,  He 
will  educate  man  for  '  the  fullnes  of  time,'  the  grand  '  end  !'  I  feel  more 
and  more  the  simplicity  and  grandeur  and  truth  of  Luther's  idea  of  faith — 
to  be  an  out  and  out  child ;  to  be  nothing,  that  God  may  be  all,  not  only 
for  us,  but  in  us ;  and,  perhaps  more  than  Luther  would  admit,  to  choose 
this — and  to  choose  it  not  o~dy  once  for  all  (a  mighty  choice  !),  but  always 
and  in  all  things— what  strength  and  peace  !  I  know  the  lesson,  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  I  have  never  learned  it.  And  heaven  would  be  heaven, 
were  it  nothing  more  than  its  being  the  finishing  of  our  education  by  the 
perfect  utterance  of  '  Our  Father.'" 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"April  Qth. — This  is  Communion  Sunday — Easter  Sunday.  I  conducted 
the  service  in  the  forenoon.     I  am  at  home  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

"  The  winter's  work  has  been  chiefly  preaching.  I  exchanged  with  Don- 
ald, and  preached  the  Temptation  sermons  in  Park  Church,  he  preaching 
for  me  five  Sundays.  Had  pleasant  district  meetings,  with  a  new  plan  of 
inviting  the  members  to  tea.  This  has  helped  to  unite  us.  I  have  raised 
by  personal  application  every  farthing  for  Bluevale  Church,  now  £2,100, 
and  it  will  soon  be  the  £2,500.  I  profoundly  feel  that  this,  like  all  done 
by  me,  is  God's  doing,  certainly  not  mine.  Our  organ  has  been  given  by 
kind,  good  James  Baird,  and  a  memorial  window  by  Mrs.  George  Grant. 
I  am  deeply  thankful  that  the  number  of  my  communicants  has  been  greater 

than  usual,  new  ones  eighteen,  and  among  them  my  dear .     Oh  !  what 

a  joy  it  is  to  see  my  beloved  children,  one  after  the  other,  thus  in  simplicity 
of  faith  publicly  accepting  of  the  Saviour.  God's  Spirit  has  surely  b»en 
with  them  since  birth.  I  don't  think  they  have  been  converted  hy  any 
sudden  change.  They  seem  to  me  as  growing  up  in  the  faith,  being  educated 
gradually  by  the  Spirit.  They  are  full  of  life,  eneigy,  and  happiness,  and 
will  probably  have  to  pass  through  trials  in  which  their  true  life  will  lie 
deepened.  They  little  know  how  happy  they  are,  and  in  what  domestic 
sunshine  they  have  lived.     God  bless  them,  darlings,  in  the  bends  of  Christ. 

"I  have  published  in  Good  Words  my  War  seimon  and  my  Temptation 
sermons.  The  Peace  Society  seem  to  dislike  me.  We  don't  comprehend 
each  other.     They  think  me  blind,  and  I  think  them  silly. 

"  I  have  been  reading  Hutton's  'Essays'  with  gieat  delight.  His  great 
defect  is  ignoring  the  lioly  Spirit,  or  not  connecting  Him,  as  he  docs  the 
Eternal  Son,  with  one  eternal,  abiding  reality. 

"  I  have  been  much  distressed  about  our  Indian  Mission.     Within  a  few 


1871—72.  419 

weeks  we  have  had  many  losses;  But  God  will  certainly  provide,  we  are 
deep  La  debt.  We  want  men  and  money  ;  from  whom  but  One  can  we  get 
both  1 

"The  war!  the  Reds  and  Assembly  now  fighting.  Of  course  the  Com- 
mune must  go  down,  or  France  as  a  nation  must.  What  next1?  Monarchy 
before  long.  But  the  Character  of  the  people  lias  been  ruined  and  requires 
a  national  restoration  of  principle,  of  patriotism,  of  unselfishness;  the  de- 
struct'  if  a  sensual,  vain,  irreverent,  u  1  cruel  spirit.  The  French  need 
to  be  Puritanised.  if  that  is  possible,  or  even  Teutonised.  It  will  take  two 
generations  of  peace,  education,  and  a  firm,  wise,  truthful,  and  powerful 
government  to  do  this.  Where  are  the  governors  ?  Where  ai-e  those  who 
will  be  governed  1  Unless  a  nation  is  religiously  educated,  it  is  gone.  I 
fear  our  own  may  suffer  from  secularists  and  Comtists." 

The  following  letter  was  written  in  reply  to  some  inquiries  which 
were  made  regarding  a  young  clergyman  who  was  a  candidate  for  a 
parish.  Among  other  questions  Dr  Macleod  was  asked  whether  he 
had  any  faults. 

".   .  .   .   Mr. ,  when  with  nio^  was  very  earnest  in  the  discharge 

of  his  duties,  remarkably  successful  in  impressing  the  working  classes,  and 
in  bringing  very  many  not  only  to  the  Church,  but  I  believe  to  God.  .  .  . 
I  do  not  say  but  that  he  may  have  defects  which  some  nice  critics  might 
possibly  detect,  although  they  are  so  small  as  not  to  be  worth  mentioning ; 
but  if  he  were  perfect,  he  would  be  more  fit  for  heaven  than  the  parish 
of ." 

To  Mr.  Simpson,  at  Messrs.  Elackwood  and  Sons'  : — 

"May  8,  1871. 

"  I  have  the  pleasure  of  sending  you  my  first  portion  of  MS.  of  the  Indian 
Mission  Report.  A  single  glance  will  convince  you  of  one  fact,  and  to  be 
assured  of  the  truth  of  even  one  fact  is  in  my  opinion  a  great  gain  in  these 
days,  when  a  man  is  thought  a  conservative  bigot  who  believes  beyond  doubt 
that  2  +  2  —  4.  The  fact  I  allude  to  is,  that  my  hand  has  not  improved 
with  age  and  experience.  As  Falstaff  "says,  '  thou  knowest  thine  old 
ward,'  that  is,  my  old  hand,  and  it  will  be  some  advantage  to  the  Mis- 
sion if  any  of  your  devils  share  your  knowledge. 

"  I  know  a  man  who  was  so  disgusted  with  some  '  proofs '  which  he  had 
received,  that  he  commenced  a  course  of  study  on  printing  by  ordering 
'  MacEwan  on  the  Types.'     I  neA-er  heard  what  effect  it  had  on  him. 

"  I  shall  send  you  more  as  soon  as  possible — I  mean  MS.,  which  might  be 
interpreted,  '  more  scribbling 


To  his  Motiier  : — 

'Ems,  May 7,  1S71. 

"  What  misery  you  must  be  enduring,  and  no  wonder !  Here  am  I 
gone  off  for  the  first  time  in  my  life — poor  little  boy  !  and  across  the  wild 
ocean,  and  to  savage  people,  not  to  return  for  ten  long,  long  years  !  Oh  it's 
sad  !  sad  ! 

"  A  sky  of  perfect  blue,  warm  sunshine,  but  a  chill  in  the  shade,  an  east- 


420  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

wind  feel,  telling  that  summer  is  not  yet  begun.  But  the  woods  are  green, 
the  birds  singing,  and  the  cuckoo  tolling  through  the  glens. 

"  I  don't  feel  better,  for  to  tell  the  truth  I  did  not  feel  ill  immediately 
before  leaving.  But  I  feel  well,  peaceful,  happy,  and  I  believe  after  a 
month  will  return  with  good  spirit  for  fair,  honest  work,  not  extra. 

"I  have  finished  'Lothair,'  which  I  have  read  for  the  first  time.  It  is 
nothing  as  a  story,  or  rather  it  is  miserably  ill  put  together,  but  it  contains 
a  series  of  most  interesting  pictures  of  life.  I  have  no  interest  in  the  hero, 
he  is  a  mere  bit  of  fine  red  wax,  impressed  by  every  new  seal.  The  best 
thing  I—  l~z  hc~L  1-.  i-Lc  w^oun,  ui  lilxo  liluls-y  <*lu1  uiever  way  01  li-oino  in 
making  converts. 

"Now  my  dear,  are  you  amazed  we  had  no  hurricane?  No  accidents'? 
No  sore  backs  or  broken  heads ;  but  that  we  eat,  sleep,  and  thoroughly  en- 
joy ourselves,  and  have  now  but  one  wish,  to  be  back  soon  among  you  all." 

To  liia  Mother  : — 

"  Ems,  May  17,  1871. 

"  It  is  intei-esting  to  see  the  wounded  soldiers  walking  about  here  with 
their  iron  crosses.  The  leader  of  the  band  has  one.  He  led  the  band  of  the 
Guards  as  they  marched  into  battle  at  Gravelotte.  A  fine  old  fellow  was 
drinking  at  the  spring  yesterday.  A  ball  had  passed  into  his  breast  and  out 
at  his  back  at  Spicheren. 

"  A  very  nice  fellow  was  dressed  in  faded  uniform,  sitting  behind  his 
counter,  with  such  a  blithe  face.  He  had  come  back  the  day  before  to  wife 
and  children.  His  next  neighbour,  landlord  of  the  Golden  Vine,  who  was 
engaged  to  otir  landlady's  daughter,  lies  buried  where  he  fell. 

"  A  noble-looking  Uhlan  officer  who  walks  about  was  surrounded  with 
his  troop.  The  French  officer  ran  a  lance  through  his  coat  only.  The  lance 
broke,  and  he  shot  the  officer,  and  he  returned  with  the  lance  hanging  in  his 
clothes. 

"  I  never  saw  more  modest,  unassuming  men." 

To  Dr.  Watson  :— 

"  Ems,  May,  1871. 

"  I  have  been  fairly  settled  here  for  two  days  only,  living  in  lodgings, 
rising  at  6.30,  drinking,  morning  and  evening,  half-boiled  soda  water  from  a 
Bnmnen;  taking  baths  every  second  day,  walking  two  hours,  watching  rou- 
lette, and  rejoicing  in  the  losses  of  the  fools  who  stake  their  money;  reading 
novels  (Lothair  for  the  first  time),  and  all  with  balmy  air  and  a  quiet  con- 
science. I  am  as  yet  much  as  I  was  when  I  left  home,  well,  but  heavy  in 
the  legs,  and  gouty.    But  I  have  no  doubt  I  shall  be  all  right  and  cheery  yet. 

"  My  great  anxiety  is  our  Mission. 

"  Holland  is  in  a  horrid  state,  a  hundred  and  sixty-five  parishes  vacant, 
no  clergy  to  fill  them,  nationalism  reigns.  The  national  system  of  educa- 
tion is  rearing  a  godless  people.  The  teaching  of  national  history  even  is 
forbid,  as  the  history  of  the  national  struggles  against  Rome  would  offend 
the  Papists.     May  heaven  confound  their  politics  !" 

To  the  Same  :—  . 

"  Your  letter  did  me  more  good  than  a  hogshead  of  M's  or  N's  water.     A 


1871—72.  421 

thousand  thanks  for  it.  Of  course  I  am  anxious  about  the  India  Mission 
Report.  1  may  have  to  resign,  the  Convenership.  But  I  leave  my  honour 
in  your  hands,  and  give  you  full  authority  to  give  in  my  resignation  wh<  u 
vou  give  in  your  own.  I  will  not  carry  out  ;i  differenl  policy  from  the  pre- 
sent. I  could  not.  Sly  judgment  would  not  go  with  it.  So  far  from  losing 
heart,  one  result  of  restored  health,  should  God  grant  it,  will,  I  firmly  and 
gladly  hope,  be  to  let  me  loose  again  for  a  season  through  the  chief  towns  in 
.Scotland,  and  to  address  the  students,  on  behalf  of  the  Mission.  '  We 
believe,  and  therefore  speak.' 

"  I  deeply  feel  with  you  that  unless  we  get  such  men  as  Jardine,  Wilson, 
Grant,  it  will  be  vain  to  sow  seeds  in  India  which  will  produce  the  Church 
of  the  future.  An  American  clergyman  told  me  yesterday  that  Puritan 
(once)  New  England  is  now  becoming  the  hot-bed  for  atheism  and  Popery. 
I  pray  God  we  may  be  able  to  help  to  save  Scotland  from  a  similar  re-action, 
which  the  union  of  the  F.  and  U.  P.  Churches  would  develop  more  rapidly. 
I  don't  fear  disestablishment;  but  so  long  as  there  is  a  clerical  order  of  men, 
who  may  beg,  but  are  not  allowed  to  dig,  I  fear  an  uneducated  and  low-bred 
clergy." 

To  his  Mother: — 

"  Ems,  May  31,  1871. 

"  I  did  not  tell  you  I  had  crossed  to  London.  I  heard,  en  route,  a  night 
service  in  Cologne  Cathedral.  There  were  2,000  people  present,  a  mere 
handful  in  that  huge  pile.  The  sermon  was  quite  like  a  Gaelic  one,  preached 
by  a  hot  old  Ross-shire  minister,  in  which  the  glories  of  Rome  took  the  place 
of  the  glories  of  the  Kirk  and  its  principles.  All  other  parties  were  of 
course  anathematised.  The  people  were  deeply  earnest.  After  the  sermon, 
a  glorious  simple  hymn  was  sung,  led  by  the  organ,  and  by  female  or  boys' 
voices  only.  The  last  rays  of  evening  were  lighting  up  the  exquisite  old 
windows  high  up  in  the  nave,  and  casting  on  the  pillars,  whose  tops  were 
lost  in  darkness,  marvellous  colours  of  every  hue;  below  was  the  dark,  silent 
mass  of  worshippers.  Lights  were  on  the  altar,  above  which  was  the  tawdry 
image — so  like  India ! — of  Virgin  and  Child.  Under  the  altar  were  the 
famous  'Kings  of  Cologne,'  who  had  paid  homage  to  Christ,  the  '  Magi,'  all 
telling  of  mediaeval  stories,  belonging  to  a  world  passing  away ;  but  all  was 
lost  to  me  in  those  angelic  strains  that  warbled  here  and  there  as  they  seem- 
ed to  wander  along  the  fretted  roof,  coming  you  knew  not  from  whence. 
An  old  priest  before  the  altar  then  repeated  various  prayers,  the  command- 
ments, &c,  to  which  Amens  were  given,  that  were  repeated  like  the  mur- 
murs of  the  sea,  from  the  large  congregation.  The  holy  sacrament  was 
exhibited,  and  all  knelt  in   silent  devotion,  and  then   departed.     What  a 

strange  world  is  this  !     Not  one  there  ever  heard  of  G or  B !  and 

yet  Scotland,  if  true  to  God,  and  not  to  its  Church  only,  will  help  to  blow 
up  Rome,  otherwise  Rome  will  blow  it  up. 

"  I  am  not  so  very  sad  now.  My  spirits  rise  sometimes  in  proportion  to 
real  difficulties,  and  I  feci  anxious  to  enter  on  India  Mission  work  with  re- 
newed vigour." 

To  Dr.  Watson  : — 

"Ems,  June  5,  1871. 

"I  have  been  greatly  worried  day  and  night  by  the  India  Mission.  What 


422  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

i 

speeches  have  I  made  about  it !  And  so  it  is  that  I  have  got  the  old  gout 
back,  and  can  hardly  crawl.  Why  do  I  bother  myself]  Why  do  I  think1? 
It  is  in  my  blood — bone  of  my  bone  ;  it  came  with  my  father  and  mother 
and  all  my  forbears,  and  must  die  with  me ;  but  it  is  not  to  every  one  I  can 
lay  bare  my  feelings.  On  thy  calm,  devoted  head  I  can  discharge  my  light- 
ning, and  roar  like  thunder,  or  bray  like  an  ass.  So  I  am  thankful  I  was 
not  in  the  Assembly.  I  would  have  gone  wild,  and  been  sorry  for  it  next 
morning.     The  cause  was  in  better  and  wiser  hands  when  in  thine." 

i 

From  his  Journal  : — 

«•  Gedl.es,  September  14,  1871. 

"  Early  in  May  we  went  to  Ems  by  the  advice  of  Sir  William  Jenner. 
The  back-bone  of  that  journey  is  recorded  in  Good  Words.  We  were  very 
happy.  Dear  Nommey  went  with  us.  The  Van  Loons  were  very  kind  to 
us.  The  General  Assembly,  and  its  ignorant  treatment  of  the  Indian  Mis- 
sion, has  given  me  some  trouble,  and  if  God  spares  me,  I  shall  in  a  long  and 
possibly  final  speech  in  the  next  General  Assembly,  defend  it  with  all  my 
miji'ht  from  these  attacks." 


o 


& 


One  of  the  few  public  meetings  which  lie  attended  this  year  was  the 
Scott  Centenary,  held  in  Glasgow  in  August.  The  address  recently 
given  to  the  British  Association  by  its  distinguished  president — his 
esteemed  friend  Sir  William  Thomson — respecting  the  meteoric  origin 
of  the  germs  from  which  vegetable  and  animal  life  have  been  evolved, 
was  then  exciting  considerable  comment,  and  it  provoked  him  to  in- 
dulge on  this  occasion  in  some  quiet  banter,  which  no  cne  of  the 
audience  enjoyed  more  than  Sir  William. 

"It  is  not  forme,"  he  said,  "to  account  for  the  genesis  of  that  marvellous 
literature,  so  prolific  as  to  have  multiplied  and  replenished  the  earth.  In- 
structed by  science,  I  dare  not  seek  its  origin  in  the  creative  mind  of  Scott ; 
yet,  as  it  is  a  literature  so  full  of  life,  it  must,  I  suppose,  have  come  from 
life  somewhere.  Will  my  illustrious  friend,  the  President  of  the  British 
Association — for  whom  my  highest  admiration  and  deepest  affection  are 
divined — pardon  an  ignoramus  like  me,  if  I  start  an  hypothesis  to  account 
for  those  extraordinary  phenomena  ]  Is  it  not  possible,  I  timidly  ask,  that 
some  circulating  library,  or,  more  correctly  speaking,  some  library  circulating 
through  endless  space — some  literary  meteoric  group  of  '  Mudies'  and 
'  Maclehoses'  was  broken  up — and  that  the  shreds  of  the  exploded  leaves 
fell  on  Ben  Nevis  or  the  Braes  of  Lochaber,  accompanied,  perhaps,  by  the 
shivered  fragments,  from  a  distant  Highland  world,  of  bagpipes  and  clay- 
mores and  '  spleuchans'  and  kilts,  and  that  out  of  them  sprang '  Waverley,' 
and  that  this  product  '  Waverley'  selected,  very  naturally,  the  west  of  Scot- 
land in  which  to  evolve  sundry  other  novels  of  that  ilk  ]"* 

*  A  friend  who  was  an  habitue  of  the  "hack  study"  relates,  that  shortly  before  the 
speech  was  delivered,  the  "  meteoric  theory"  was  there  discussed,  especially  with  re- 
ference to  the  reci  ption  it  had  met  with  from  newspaper  critics,  who  seemed  to  he 
unanimous  in  holding  that  it  only  removed  the  difficulty  as  to  the  origin  "f  life  a  stage 
back.  Norman's  friend,  in  a  note  which  he  sent  to  a  local  journal,  and  which  was  read 
in  the  "back  study,"  contended  that  this  criticism  was  unfair,  inasmuch  as  the  difficulty 
Wah  not  only  removed  farther  back,  but  removed  out  of  this  world  altogether,  and  after 


1871—72.  423 

From  his  Journal  :— 

'•  Geddes,  September  14,  1871. 

"Thank  God  for  this  peace  !  I  have  had  a  most,  blessed  time  here — the 
moi'e  blessed  because,  as  I  had  anticipated,  it  made  my  own  dear  one  so 
happy.  No  wonder  !  It  has  been  like  a  resurrection  of  old  friends  of  the 
family,  rich  and  poor.  The  kindness  of  all  has  been  quite  overpowering. 
I  thank  God  that  my  children,  who  have  been  all  I  could  wish — have 
had  proof  of  the  deep  affection  and  respect  in  which  their  grandfather 
and  grandmother  have  been  held.  It  is  most  touching,  and  immensely 
gratifying  —  a  great  reward  for  their  goodness  —  to  hear  cheir  praises 
spoken  of  by  every  one  with  a  pathos  and  touching  heartiness  which 
is  most  pleasing.  I  cannot  tejl  what  a  marvellous  gift  Geddes  has  been  to 
me.  It  has  made  our  own  John  literally  alive  again.  I  have  preached 
twice  here,  and  given  an  Indian  address,  and  raised  £40.  I  have  preached 
with  great  delight  twice  in  the  School  House.  I  wish  daily  to  reveal  the 
Father  to  His  children.  It  is  such  light,  such  freedom,  such  a  binding 
power  ! 

"We  have  sung,  danced,  and  played  croquet.  I  have  written  'Major 
Fraser.' 

"  God  reconciles  all  in  Himself. 

"  Oh,  my  Father,  thanks — thanks  be  to  Thee  ! 

"  We  leave  to-morrow.  I  lament  nothing.  I  thank  God  for  everything. 
His  goodness  is  overpowering.     I  do  know  how  good  He  is  !" 


While  at  Geddes  the  memory  of  John  Mackintosh,  seemed  continu- 
ally with  him  as  a  sweet  and  refreshing  presence.  One  of  his  first 
walks  was  to  a  spot  closely  associated  with  him,  and  he  used  to  tell 
the  overpowering  effect  it  had,  when,  as  he  was  sitting  there  wrapped 
in  quiet  thought,  lie  heard  the  wild  sad  notes  of  the  bag-pipe  playing 
'  Mackintosh's  Lament' — one  of  the  most  beautiful,  as  it  was  now  the 
most  appropriate  of  pibroclis.  The  family  usually  spent  the  evening 
in  the  hall,  off  which  opened  the  door  of  what  had  been  John  Mac- 
kintosh's room ;  and  when  his  children  were  dancing  reels,  he  would 
often  sit  watching  them,  lost  in  quiet  thought,  the  past  and  present 
mingling  without  discord,  and  feeling  how  '  God  reconciled  all  things 
in  Himself.'  The  following  impromptu  lines  express  the  character  of 
these  musings  : — 

o 

having  bothered  our  savants  for  ages,  would  now  have  to  be  taken  up  by  the  Association 
for  the  Promotion  of  Science  in  one  of  the  other  planets.  Tickled  by  this  suggestion, 
and  marching  up  and  down  the  room,  Norman  dictated  a  P.  S.  to  be  appended  to  tha 
note. 

"  Perhaps  the  men  of  science  would  do  well,  in  accordance  with  these  latest  results, 
to  re-write  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  in  this  way  : — 

"1.  The  earth  was  without  form  and  void. 

"2.  A  meteor  fell  upon  the  earth. 

"  3.  The  result  was  fish,  flesh,  and  fowl. 

"  4.  From  these  proceeded  the  British  Association. 

•**  5.  And  the  British  Association  pronounced  it  all  tolerably  good  I" 


424  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

IN  MEMORIAM  OF  "THE  EARNEST  STUDENT." 

(impromptu.  ) 

In  the  hall  was  dancing  and  singing, 

My  children  were  brimful  of  joy, 

I  sat  there  alone,  and  in  shadow, 

Near  his  room  dreaming  about  him 

Who  there  long  had  laboured  and  prayed, 

Where  angels  saw  heaven  and  earth  meeting 

In  the  heart  of  that  true  child  of  God, — 

The  bright,  the  unselfish,  and  joyous  ! 

And  the  chill  wiuds  of  autumn  were  moaning 

Through  the  pines,  down  his  favourite  walks ; 

But  the  stars  were  out  brightly  shining, 

And  one  brighter  than  all  was  above. 

I  dreamt  of  those  last  days  of  sickness, 

Of  his  patience,  his  meekness,  and  love, 

Of  the  calm  of  his  summer  twilight, 

Of  the  midnight  before  the  bright  day. 

As  I  gazed  at  that  chamber,  long  empty, 

In  this  home,  his  heaven  when  on  earth, 

It  was  strange,  it  was  terribly  awing, 

To  think  of  him  now  lying  dead  ! 

Dead  as  the  granite  that  heavily 

Covered  him  with  the  stones  and  clay! 

That  heart  of  the  laughing  and  loving 

In  a  cold  leaden  coffin  lying  still  ! 

That  heart  to  which  all  that  was  truest 

And  pure  was  a  well-spring  of  joy, 

Yonder  twenty  long  years  lying  buried, 

Yet  for  twenty  long  years  still  living 

Elsewhere  in  the  home  of  his  Father  ! 

Ah,  where  was  he  now,  in  what  mansion, 

In  what  star  of  the  infinite  sky  ? 

Whom  had  he  met  since  we  parted, 

Since  the  night  when  we  bade  him  farewell? 

"What  since  had  he  seen,  was  he  seeing  ? 

"What  since  had  he  done,  was  he  doing  ? 

With  whom  had  he  spoke,  was  he  speaking  1 

Did  he  think  of  us  here,  and  remember 

Those  he  never  forgot  when  on  earth  ? 

Was  he  heie  with  the  ministering  angels 

In  the  hall  of  his  early  dead  home  ? 

Ah,  what  would  he  think  of  our  evenings 

Our  evenings  so  merrily  spent  ? 

Could  his  heart  now  feel  holy  sorrow, 

"With  his  faith  and  love  perfect  in  God  ? 

Could  his  heavenly  sunshine  be  shadowed, 

Beholding  these  forms  of  earth's  gladness 

'Midst  the  sin  and  the  sufferings  of  life  ? 

Would  he  wonder  that  we  could  be  happy 

And  his  and  our  Saviour  still  waiting 

To  see  joy  from  his  anxious  soul-travail, 

And  the  true  life  of  God  in  the  world  ? 

Ah  !  that  dear  one  would  bear  our  weakness^ 

Our  sleep  'midst  the  glories  around, 

Our  blindness  to  all  he  rejoiced  in, 

Our  slowness  to  learn  from  our  Lord  ! 

As  1  gazed  at  his  room,  now  silent, 

The  sweet  life  he  then  lived  recalling, 

Him  laughing  and  playing  with  children, 


1871—72.  425 

Telling  tales  to  tliern,  singing  tliem  songs  ; 
His  true  soul  in  harmony  chiming 
With  all  the  arrangements  of  God  ; 
1  awoke  from  my  dream,  yet  saying, 
In  anguish,    "  My  love,  thou  art  dead  ! 
Thou  art  dead  to  us  twenty  long  years  !" 
Then  I  said,   "  No,  my  love  is  living  ; 
For  is  he  not  part  of  our  being, 
And  with  us  wherever  we  are  ; 
And  are  not  all  '  together  with  God' — - 
With  Himself  the  life  of  the  living  !:' 
If  we  saw  thee  once  more  among  us, 
We  would  fly  to  thine  arms  entwining, 
And  thy  smiles  as  of  old  would  welcome 
With  the  old  voice  of  love  only  sweeter, 
And  the  bright  eyes  of  love  only  brighter . 
All  lovely7  I  see  thee  among  us, 
And  hear  thy  loved  accents  again  ; 
In  7ny  calmed  heart  whispering  gently, 
"These  joys  are  all  gifts  from  our  Father, 
But  our  Father  Himself  is  all." 

Now  all  are  at  rest.     It  is  midnight — 
How  dead  is  the  hall  and  how  silent  ! 
The  night  winds  still  sadly  are  moaning, 
But  the  stars  are  still  brightly  shining, 
Still  o'er  all  is  the  bright  light  of  God  ! 

To  Mrs.  Macleod  : — 

"Balmoral,  Oct.,  1S71. 

"I  preached  extempore,  on  'Our  Father  which  art  in  Heaven,'  and  on 
the  education  of  men  beyond  the  grave.  I  fear  I  shocked  not  a  few — I 
hope  I  did  so  for  good. 

"  We  have  here  Helps  and  Mr.  Forster,  M.P.,  and  we  have  had  tremen- 
dous theological  talks  till  2  a.m.  I  keep  my  own  not  amiss.  I  have  the 
greatest  possible  respect  for  Forster's  abilities  and  truthfulness.  Would  to 
Clod  we  could  lose  our  Calvinism,  and  put  all  the  teaching  of  Christ  and 
His  apostles  in  a  form  according  to  fact  and  not  theory.  '  Our  Father '  is 
the  root  of  all  religion  and  morality,  and  can  be  seen  with  the  spirit,  rather 
than  the  mere  intellect. 

"  The  Queen  has  asked  me  to  remain  till  to-morrow.  I  hope  to  have 
another  set-to  with  the  M.P.  He  seems  to  expect  the  same,  as  he  said 
'  Hurrah  !'  when  I  told  him  I  was  to  remain." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  January.—  I  have  lost  much  to  my  memory,  already  failing  from  a 
multiplicity  of  objects,  in  having  recorded  so  little  about  '71. 

"  I  have  been  very  steadily  at  home  since  September,  and  my  every  day- 
occupied  with  those  details  of  public  and  private  life  which,  although  impor- 
tant at  the  time  and  demanding  patience  and  forethought,  and  bringing  usual 
cares  and  worries,  soon  pass,  like  the  seas  which  a  vessel  meets  every  ten 
minutes,  that  hit  her,  splash  over  her,  make  her  shiver,  and  are  forgotten. 
My  life  is  strangely  broken  into  small  parts,  and  as  this  is  God's  will,  I  must 
submit  and  make  the  best  of  it. 

"Events!  what  are  they  1     None!      Addressing  meetings  and  soirees  in. 


426  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

rny  own  parish,  preaching,  finishing  Bluevale  Church,  directing  India  Mis- 
sion, writing  letters  innumerable,  visiting  sick,  writing  nonsense  for  Good 
Words  for  the  Young — doing  everything  and  doing  nothing.  Stanley  has 
been  with  me." 

The  liynm  '  Trust  in  God  and  do  the  Right,'  which  had  been  written 
in  1858,  was  not  published  in  Good  Words  until  January,  1872.  On 
its  appearance  there  a  writer  in  a  local  paper  charged  Dr.  Macleod 
with  plagiarism  from  an  American  hymn-writer,  stating  that  he  had  in 
his  possession  a  volume,  compiled  by  Philip  Philips,  of  Hymns  by 
American  Authors,  in  which  these  words  occurred ;  that  this  volume 
was  in  circulation  a  considerable  time  before  this  number  of  Good 
Words  appeared.  A  friend  having  sent  this  criticism  to  Dr.  Macleod, 
the  following  letter  was  sent  in  reply : — 

"Friday. 

"  I  received  yonr  note  with  extract  from  a  Paisley  newspaper  last  night 
on  my  return  from  Liverpool.  I  think  the  critic  might  have  done  me  the 
justice  of  sending  me  a  copy  of  his  remarks.  But  this  has  too  often  been 
my  experience  of  writers  in  newspapers.  They  seldom  take  the  trouble  to 
let  you  know  what  they  have  been  publishing  against  you ;  1  have  seen 
letters  and  criticisms  founded  upon  the  most  absurd  assumptions  weeks  after 
they  were  published,  and,  of  course,  never  contradicted.  In  regard  to  the 
verses  in  question  it  is  quite  clear  that  some  Yankee  in  his  zeal  for  hymn- 
ology  has  neither  trusted  God  nor  done  the  right,  but  trusted  to  a  lie  and 
done  the  wrong.  These  verses  of  mine  were  first  published  at  the  end  of  a 
lecture  sriven  to  the  voun<x  men  at  Exeter  Hall  in  1858.  The  music  was 
composed  by  Sullivan  expressly  for  the  words.  But  it  is  perfectly  possible 
that  some  spiritualist  hymn-writer  in  America  may  have  written  the  same 
words,  composing  the  same  music,  using  Mr.  Philip  Philips  as  his  medium. 
After  all,  such  barefaced  stealing  is  too  bad. 

"Make  any  use  of  this  you  please." 

As  he  had  always  practised  strict  reticence  regarding  all  matters 
connected  with  the  Court,  and  heartily  hated  that  gossip  which  the 
public  craves  for  only  too  greedily,  he  was  not  a  little  surprised  and 
annoyed  to  find  a  few  kindly  words  he  had  spoken  off-hand  at  the  laying 
of  a  foundation-stone  at  Lenzie,  near  Glasgow,  made  the  occasion  for  a 
grossly  personal  attack  on  the  part  of  some  of  the  English  newspapers. 
The  insinuation  as  to  his  using  flattery  for  selfish  objects  was  too 
offensive  to  be  publicly  noticed  by  him,  but  he  was  none  the  less 
gratified  by  the  manner  in  which  he  wras  vindicated  by  other  represen- 
tatives of  the  press. 

To  Mr.  Hedderwick,  Editor  of  the  Glasgow  Citizen  : — 

"  January,  1872. 

"  I  have  just  read  your  generous  defence  of  me  against  the  most  untrue 
and  malicious  attacks  of  the  newspapers.  The  fact  is  that  during  the  thir- 
teen or  fourteen  years  in  which  I  have  been  in  close  contact  with  the  Royal 
Family,  I  have  carefully  avoided  ever  speaking  about   them   in  public,  and 


1871— 72.  427 

in  private  only  to  intimate  friends.    Yet  I  have  often  felt  my  heart  burning 

in  listening  to  all   the   wild  lies  told   about  them.     These,   my  only  two 
speeches,  were  purely  accidental,  and  almost  forced  upon  me. 

"At  Lenzie  I  forgot  there  were  reporters  in  the  room,  and  was  suddenly 
called  upon  by  the  chairman  to  confirm  the  account  he  gave  of  the  Queen's 
health  ;  and  a  minute  before  I  spoke  I  had  as  much  intention  of  doing  so  as 
of  seeking  to  be  knighted.  So  it  was  in  the  Px'esbj  tery — I  was  not  aware 
the  topic  was  to  bo  introduced.  Dr.  M.  was  speaking  about  it  as  I  entered. 
He  stopped,  and  called  on  me  to  propose  it,  and  I  did  so  without  one 
minute's  preparation.  To  flatter  majesty  is  gross  impertinence.  As  to  being 
knighted,  thank  God  the  Queen  herself  cannot  bestow  any  honour  of  the 
kind  on  a  Scotch  clergyman.  No  possible  favour  can  she  grant  me,  or 
honour  bestow,  beyond  what  the  poor  can  give  the  poor— her  friendship. 

"  Yours  gratefully, 

"K  MACLEOD. 

"  I  never  asked  a  favour  from  the  Queen  or  Government  since  I  was 
born." 

The  improvement  which  his  sojourn  at  Ems  and  the  summer's  rest 
at  Geddes  had  wrought  on  his  health  was  unfortunately  of  short 
duration.  Before  mid-winter  was  reached,  and  in  spite  of  his  taking 
the  utmost  care  in  avoiding  unnecessary  engagements,  his  work  began 
to  tell  heavily  upon  him,  and  he  assumed  a  wearied  and  broken-down 
aspect.  Labour  which  before  sat  lightly  on  him,  was  now  exhausting 
toil,  and  an  increasing  sense  of  depression  weighed  on  his  spirits.  The 
most  ominous  and  distressing  symptom  was  the  restlessness  which  he 
experienced  whenever  he  retired  for  the  night,  and  which  prevented 
him  enjoying  sleep  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  at  a  time. 
Though  happily  unaccompanied  by  pain,  this  usually  lasted  till  morn- 
ing, and  became  so  trying,  that  in  order  to  humour  it  lie  generally 
passed  the  night  on  a  sofa  in  his  dressing-room.  A  volume  of  Alison's 
"History  of  Europe"  and  Garwood's  "Sketches"  lay  on  the  mantel-piece 
and  the  long  hours,  broken  by  brief  snatches  of  sleep,  were  spent  in 
reading  the  accounts  of  campaigns  and  battles*  About  seven  in  the 
morning  he  would  return  to  his  room,  and  after  an  hour  or  two  of  re- 
freshing  slumber  enter  on  the  hard  toil  of  the  day. 

He  devoted  much  time  during  this  winter  to  his  pulpit,  writing  all 
his  sermons  fully  out,  and  preaching  not  only  with  great  delight  to 
himself,  but  in  a  manner  so  instructive  to  his  people  that  they  look 
back  to  the  teaching  of  these  later  months  as  more  precious  than  any 
they  ever  received  from  him. 

He  went  to  London  in  February,  on  the  occasion  of  the  public 
thanksgiving  in  St.  Paul's,  for  the  recovery  of  the  Prince  of  Wales. 
The  gathering  of  the  representatives  of  the  British  empire  for  such  a 
purpose,  the  imposing  ceremony,  the  spectacle  of  the  vast  cathedral 

*  This  kind  of  reading  had  always  a  peculiar  charm  for  him,  so  that  not  unfrequently 
after  a  day  of  unusual  hard  mental  work,  preaching  or  otherwise,  he  would  have  recourse 
to  Alison's  "History,"  or  "  Wellington's  Dispatches,"  and  find  refreshment  in  giving 
entire  change  of  thought. 


428  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

filled  with  its  ten  thousand  worshippers,  the  music,  the  dignified 
service,  all  combined  to  impress  him  deeply.  "  I  thank  God,"  he  said, 
to  his  brother  who  sat  beside  him,  "for  a  National  Church,  without 
which  we  could  not  have  such  an  expression  of  the  national  religion. 
It  is  all  worthy  and  right.  We  could  not  do  this  in  Scotland  Oar 
Presbytarianism  is  too  individual  in  its  methods, — healthy  enough  as 
bringing  the  soul  to  deal  with  the  personal  God,  but  there  should  be 
room  in  a  Church,  which  professes  to  be  national  and  historic,  for  such 
a  service  as  this."  One  feature  in  the  assembly  deeply  affected  him. 
There  were  near  him  a  number  of  Orientals,  Parsees,  Hindoos,  and 
Mahominedans,  whose  presence  touched  a  sympathetic  chord  in  his 
heart.  In  his  speech  to  the  General  Assembly  three  months  after- 
wards, he  alluded  to  the  impression  that  scene  had  made  on  him. 
"  When  these  men,"  he  said,  "  some  of  them  representatives  of 
sovereigns  who  once  occupied  the  thrones  of  India,  beheld  the  assem- 
bly, which,  take  it  all  in  all,  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  ever 
gathered — when  they  beheld  the  Queen  who  now  ruled  over  them,  the 
legislature  of  Britain,  old  warriors  covered  with  medals  won  in  many 
a  hard-fought  battle  in  their  own  India,  men  of  philosophy  and 
science,  men  who  had  governed  provinces  far  greater  than  England, — 
all  bowing  down  in  worship,  and  when  they  heard  like  a  mighty 
breeze  the  prayer  whispered  from  these  ten  thousand  lips,  '  Our  Father 
which  art  in  heaven ; '  what  if  one  of  these  Easterns  had  risen  and 
said,  '  You  have  sent  us  laws,  men  of  science,  and  warriors,  but  have 
never  told  us  of  that  Father  to  whom  you  pray  !'  Could  that  be  said 
in  truth,  then  might  a  greater  assembly  still  be  summoned  to  ask 
God's  mercy  on  a  nation  that  had  been  so  unfaithful." 

The  Scotchmen  settled  in  Liverpool  had  always  shown  him  affection, 
which  was  quite  reciprocated  by  him,  and  as  his  eldest  son  was  now 
there  learning  business,  he  determined  on  his  way  home  from  London 
to  visit  him,  and  beg  for  funds  for  his  beloved  India  Mission.  His 
method  of  approaching  some  of  the  merchants  of  the  town  greatly 
amused  them.  "  If  you  treat  me  in  Liverpool  as  well  as  I  see  you  treat 
dogs  I  will  be  content,"  he  said  to  one  of  them ;  and  in  answer  to  the 
puzzled  look  of  inquiry,  he  added,  "  Merely  that  I  noticed  how  a  dog 
had  carried  off  hundreds  of  pounds  at  a  coursing  match,  and  I  think  I 
am  as  good  as  a  dog  any  day." 

To  George  Campbell,  Esq  : — 

"Broadgeeen,  Liverpool,  February,  1S72. 

"Thanks  for  your  .£50.  I  will  tell  you  a  story — a  rare  tiling  with  me. 
The  b°adle  and  gravedigger  of  Kilwinning  parish,  Ayrshire,  was  dying. 
One  day  his  minister  found  him  very  sad,  and  on  questioning  him  as  to  the 
cause  of  this  mausual  depression,  he  said,  '  I  was  just  countin'  that  since  the 
now  year  I  had  buried  fifty  folk,  includin'  bairns,  and  I  was  hopefu'  that  I 
might  be  spared  to  mak'  oot  the  hunner  (hundred)  afore  the  neist  new  year.' 

"  Do  you  see?  That  heart  of  yours  is,  I  guess,  even  bigger  than  your 
purse.     May  both  be  bigger,  if  possible  ! 

"  I  am  trembling  betwixt  hope  and  fear  for  my  Indian  ark." 


1871—72.  429 

On  his  way  to  Liverpool  lie  received  the  tidings  of  the  death  of  the 
man  whom  of  all  others  he  reverenced  and  loved,  Dr.  John  Macleod 
Campbell.  During  the  few  previous  months  lie  had  seen  one  after 
another  of  his  friends  pass  away.  Erskine  of  Linlathen  and  Maurice 
had  just  entered  into  their  rest,  and  now  Campbell,  to  him  the  great- 
est and  best  of  all,  had  followed. 

During  the  same  month  he  visited  St.  Andrew's  for  the  purpose  of 
urging  the  claims  of  the  Mission,  and  appealing  to  the  students  of  the 
University  for  volunteers  to  go  to  India  as  missionaries.  "  We  were 
all  struck,"  Principal  Shairp  writes,  "  by  his  worn  and  flaccid  look  ; 
he  seemed  so  oppressed  and  nervous  when  he  was  going  to  address 
only  a  few  hundred  people  in  our  small  university  chapel ;  and  I  well 
remember  the  close  of  that  address.  After  describing  very  clearly  and 
very  calmly  the  state  of  the  Mission  and  its  weakness  for  want  of  both 
fit  men  and  sufficient  funds,  his  last  words  were,  "  If  by  the  time  next 
General  Assembly  arrives  neither  of  those  are  forthcoming,  there  is 
one  who  wishes  he  may  find  a  grave  !"  That  was  his  last  word,  and 
it  fell  like  a  knell  on  my  heart  and  on  many  more.  So  infirm  was  he 
that  day,  that  though  the  college  church  is  scarcely  a  hundred  yards 
from  our  house,  he  had  to  be  driven  both  there  and  back  ! 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  March  1. — What  events  of  importance  or  interest  to  myself  have  been 
crowded  into  the  months  and  days  which  have  passed  since  these  last  words 
have  been  written  !  The  Thanksgiving  for  the  dear  Queen  and  Prince  this 
week  in  London — the  grandest  thing,  moi-ally,  I  have  ever  witnessed  or  can 
witness  ;  and  the  death  of  my  best  of  friends,  and  of  the  best  man  I  have 
ever  known  on  earth  or  can  know — my  own  John  Campbell  ! 

"  This  last  implies  worlds  to  me  as  affecting  my  inner  life.  I  might  have 
added  to  it  the  crisis  of  the  Indian  Mission ;  yet  I  am  so  wearied  in  body 
and  soul  this  night,  that  I  cannot  write  about  them,  yet  cannot  be  silent, 
but  must  mark  this  point  and  transition  between  my  past  and  future,  in 
which  I  am  involved  as  a  minister,  a  citizen,  and  a  friend.  Oh  my  dear, 
dear  John  !  I  left  thee  to-day  in  thy  grave,  and  the  world  can  never  more 
be  the  same  to  me.  Thy  light,  shining  through  an  earthly  tabernacle,  is 
gone ;  my  staff  is  departed ;  the  arm  on  which  I  leant  is  in  the  grave  ;  and 
my  best  and  truest  of  friends  is  dead  !  Oh,  how  I  loved  him  and  adored  him 
on  this  side  of  idolatry  !  He  was  my  St.  Paul.  No  words  of  mine  can  ex- 
press  my  love  to  him.  I  took  part  with  Story  in  the  service  ;  I  lowered 
him  to  his  grave  ;  I  cannot  preach  about  him  to  morrow  ;  I  hope  to  do  so 
next  Sunday.  Till  then,  all  things  else  depart." 
Tj  Principal  Shairp  :— 

"Saturday,  March  16,  1872. 

"My  dearest  John, 

"More  dear  than  ever,  as  friend  after  friend  departs,  and  as  we  feel 
ourselves  every  year  like  the  remains  of  an  old  Guard,  whose  comrades  have 
almost  all  left  us — all  who  could  speak,  not  of  the  old  wars,  but  of  the  old 
times  of  joy  and  hope,  of  struggle  and  of  victory.     The  reason,  perhaps, 


430  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

why  I  have  not  written  to  you,  or  indeed  to  any  one  who  was  one  with  me 
in  devoted  love  to  beloved  John  Campbell,  was  that  I  knew  we  had  the 
same  feeling,  the  same  sense  of  loss,  the  same  joy  in  his  gain,  the  same 
everything!  I  heard  of  it  in  England.  It  was  a  sudden  and  terrible  blow. 
As  we  praised  God  in  St.  Paiil's,  lie,  a  king  and  priest,  had  entered  into 
the  joy  of  his  Lord  ;  and  oh,  John,  what  joy  i  You  said  truly  to  me  that 
if  there  be  a  God,  we  as  men  are  alienated  from  Him,  and  need  reconcilia- 
tion ;  and  I  add,  if  there  be  a  God — shocking  'if  even  to  speak  of — he  is 
with  Him.  I  returned  home  on  Friday,  and  was  in  time  for  his  funeral  on 
Saturday.  I  took  part  in  the  services  along  with  Story,  and  what  that  was 
to  me  you  will  understand,  as  I  prayed  in  the  church,  near  the  head  of  his 
coffin.  It  was  a  wet  and  cold  day,  but  there  was  a  large  attendance  of 
ministers,  and  of  men  and  women,  who  loved  him  as  few  were  loved.  Tues- 
day I  spent  with  his  wife  and  family,  and  heard  all.  Five  days  before  his 
death,  when  very  cheerie,  he  wrote  his  last  and  a  most  beautiful  letter  to 
comfort  orphans.  But  he  spoke  not  much  of  religion  when  dying.  His- 
silent  death  was  like  his  life,  an  'amen'  to  God's  will. 

"I  preached  a  funeral  sermon  for  him,  which  I  will  publish,  that  his  dear 
Lord  may  be  glorified  in  him,  even  through  unworthy  me.  He  has  left  a 
large  collection  of  letters;  many  written  to  his  father  on  the  Mondays, 
giving  an  account  of  his  teaching  on  the  previous  Sundays  at  Row;  many 
to  his  brother  and  sister,  both  worthy  of  him ;  a  series  over  ten  years,  to 
his  son,  on  general  subjects  of  Christian  interest;  all  immensely  valuable. 
Who  will  edit  these'?  I  know  not.  In  spite  of  my  clearest  wish,  it  seems 
impossible  that  a  man  so  poor  in  good  as  I  am  should  be  called  upon  to  give 
an  account  of  such  men  as  our  two  beloved  Johns !  But  the  treasure  is 
often  committed  to  earthen  vessels,  that  the  power  might  be  seen  to  be  of 
God. 

"My  heart,  dear,  is  very  sore.  The  world  and  life  look  awfully  serious 
to  me.  I  feel  as  if  the  winding-up  were  coming  soon,  and  I  have  a  depress- 
ing sense,  of  which  no  one  but  God  can  judge,  of  a  miserably  improved  life. 
But  such  feelings  are  for  God,  more  than  for  man.  They  don't  come  from 
gout,  as  they  are  of  late  my  habit ;  yet  I  suffer  still  from  the  enemy.  God 
is  my  only  light,  and  I  seek  to  cast  the  burden  of  my  soul,  my  life,  my 
fears,  my  all  on  Him;  and  yet  my  very  faith  is  so  weak." 

The  sermon  which  he  preached  on  Dr.  Campbell  was  afterwards 
published  in  another  form  in  Good  Words.  The  privilege  and  responsi- 
bility of  speaking  regarding  his  lamented  friend  were  so  keenly  realised 
by  him  that,  before  beginning,  he  wrote  on  the  fly-leaf  of  his  manu- 
script the  following  touching  prayer: — 

u  May  God  the  Father,  whose  glory  my  beloved  friend  ever  sought,  tench 
me,  a  miserable  sinner,  who  am  unworthy  to  speak  of  the  holy  ones  in  His 
presence,  to  speak  of  His  saint  in  glory  so  as  to  give  some  true  impression 
of  what  he  was  ;  that  Jesus,  who  was  and  is  his  '  all  in  all,'  may  be  glorified 
in  and  by  him ;  and  that,  though  dead,  he  may  speak  through  my  feeble 
lips  !  I  begin  with  fear  and  trembling  ;  yet,  if  I  am  every  Sunday  called 
upon  to  speak  of  Jesus,  why  should  I  fear  to  speak  of  one  of  His  holy 
apostles?     God  help  me  in  His  inercy ! 

"Saturday,  March  0,  1872." 


1871—72.  431 

Similar  prayers  are  of  frequent  occurrence  on  the  first  or  last  pages 
of  liis  sermons,  and  there  are  sometimes  brief  notices  of  the  events  in 
his  own  life,  which  suggested  certain  lines  of  thought. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

niS    DEATH 

i6  "Y  FEEL  as  if  the  winding-up  were  coming  soon,"  he  wrote  to  Prin- 
1  cipal  Shairp,  with  little  anticipation  of  how  soon  his  words  were 
to  be  realised. 

As  the  spring  wore  on,  the  sense  of  feebleness  and  discomfort  con- 
tinued to  increase ;  but  his  family  physician,  Professor  Andrew 
Buchanan,  after  careful  examination,  discovered,  at  that  time,  nothing 
organically  wrong  with  his  heart ;  and  believing  that  complete  rest  and 
freedom  from  anxiety  would  suffice  to  remove  his  ailments,  he  ordered 
him  to  give  up  the  India  Mission,  leave  his  town-house  and  reside 
in  the  country,  and,  in  short,  confine  his  duties  within  the  narrowest 
possible  circle.  Dr.  Macleod  at  once  acquiesced  in  these  arrangements, 
and  for  a  time  found  some  enjoyment  in  planning  a  cottage  which  he 
thought  of  building  on  the  slope  of  Campsie  Fell,  in  a  situation  he  had 
long  admired,  and  he  seemed  almost  happy  at  the  prospect  of  renewing 
his  early  love  of  country  life.  The  other  direction  of  his  physician 
made  a  greater  demand  on  his  feelings.  He  did  not  hesitate  as  to  re- 
linquishing the  India  Mission,  but  he  determined  that  in  doing  so  he 
would  express,  once  for  all,  the  conclusions  he  had  reached  regarding 
the  manner  in  which  Christian  work  in  India  ought  to  be  conducted. 
For  weeks  he  revolved  the  subject  in  his  mind ;  for  weeks  it  possessed 
his  thoughts  night  and  da}^ ;  and,  whether  from  the  nature  of  the  views 
he  felt  it  his  duty  to  propound,  or  more  probably,  from  the  exaggerated 
colouring  which  weak  health  imparts  to  coming  difficulties,  he  somehow 
expected  that  his  speech  was  to  provoke  a  violent  and  painful  dis- 
cussion. These  anticipations,  natural  to  an  invalid,  although  utterly 
groundless,  had  the  effect  of  exciting  his  shattered  nervous  system,  and 
of  producing  an  anxiety  and  agitation  which  told  with  fatal  effect 
upon  him. 

When  he  rose  in  the  Assembly  to  address  a  house  crowded  to  suffo- 
cation, his  rapid  breathing  revealed  the  strain  he  was  labouring  under. 
He  had  written  nothing  beforehand  except  a  few  jottings  on  the  fly- 
leaf of  the  Mission  Fieport ;  and  such  was  the  impassioned  and  rapid 
manner  in  which,  under  the  pressure  of  his  convictions,  he  grappled 
with  the  points  he  wished  most  to  impress,  that  the  reporters  were  un- 
able to  take  down  even  the  meaning  of  a  great  part  of  the  address — - 


HIS  DEATH.  4:)) 

bhe  most  powerful  and  stirring  he  ever  delivered.  The  speech  is 
practically  lost.  Passages  can  be  recalled ;  the  general  scope  can  he 
sketched;  but  there  is  no  adequate  record  of  the  masterly  handling  of 
principles,  the  touches  of  kindly  humour,  the  skill  with  which  he  con- 
ciliated his  audience  while  urging  views  calculated  to  offend  the  pre- 
judices of  many,  the  overpowering  earnestness  with  which  he  defended 
his  own  position  and  appealed  to  the  Church  for  a  generous  and  self- 
forgetful  policy  towards  India.  Those  who  were  present  may  retain 
an  impression  of  its  power,  but  the  speech  itself  has  perished. 

He  had  been  labouring  for  years,  with  little  effect,  to  induce  the 
clergy  to  adopt  efficient  methods  of  raising  funds,  and  had  discovered 
how  difficult  it  is  in  such  matters  to  combat  sloth,  prejudice,  power  of 
custom.  He  had  tried  also  to  make  the  Church  realise  the  nature  and 
difficulty  of  the  problems  with  which  her  Mission  had  to  deal,  only  to 
find,  however,  that  many  good  people  withheld  their  sympathy,  eyed 
with  suspicion  the  education  policy  which  formed  an  essential  part  of 
the  Mission  system,  and  cared  little  for  any  results  except  such  as  took 
the  form  of  individual  conversion.     He  deeply  felt  that — 

"  There  was  a  sort  of  feeling  of  uneasiness  and  discontent  throughout  the 
Church  in  reference  to  his  conduct  of  the  Mission,  as  if  they  said,  '  The 
Mission  is  excellent;  God  bless  the  Mission;  let  us  support  it;  but — '  and 
there  was  a  groan  or  a  sigh,  a  something  he  could  not  get  at.  It  needed  no 
power  but  that  of  thoughtlessness  to  destroy,  but  they  must  i*emember  how 
difficult  it  is  to  restore.  Any  man  could  set  a  great  building  on  fire  ;  and  a 
single  word,  or  the  shake  of  the  head  of  a  man  in.  authority,  might  be  very 

destructive  to  the  work  of  the  Committee Did  they  realise,"  he 

asked,  "what  they  expected  the  Hindoos  to  do,  what  they  blamed  them  for 
not  doing,  or  compared  these  expectations  with  what  they  were  doing  them- 
selves at  home  1  They  were  asking  Hindoos,  men.  of  flesh  and  blood  like 
themselves,  and  far  more  sensitive  than  Scotchmen,  of  great  intelligence  and 
culture,  to  give  up  hoary  traditions,  to  cut  down  the  tree  of  that  religion 
under  which  they  and  their  fathers  had  sat  for  teeming  centuries,  and  to 
accept  the  religion  of  a  people  whose  very  touch  was  pollution  !  They  were 
asking  these  men  in  many  cases  to  give  up  father  and  mother,  and  brother 
and  sister,  and  were  much  astonished  they  did  not  make  the  sacrifice  !  But 
suppose  the  Hindoos,  who  were  observing  and  intelligent,  were  to  turn  on 
themselves  and  say,  '  You  are  sending  us  Christianity,  to  believe  which 
implies  enormous  sacrifices  on  our  part,  but  what  are  your  own  clergy  doing? 
You  are  asking  us  to  sacrifice  all  our  traditions,  but  you  won't  sacrifice  the 
custom  in  your  parishes  that  has  been  brought  in  by  your  venerable  predeces- 
sors !  What  do  you  give  for  the  salvation  of  souls  ]  A  pound  or  a  penny,  or,  as 
is  the  case  in  one  hundred  and  seventy  of  your  churches,  nothing  at  all  ? 
You  call  us  deceivers ;  but  we  take  you  by  appearances,  and  ask  you  to  kt 
us  see  what  Christianity  is  in  yourselves  before  you  come  to  us.'  ....  He 
had  yet  to  learn  that  it  was  the  work  of  the  Foieign  Mission  to  make  con- 
verts. He  had  always  understood  that  the  conversion  of  souls  was  in  the 
hand  of  God.  He  was  not  speaking  lightly  of  conversion — far  from  it ;  but 
their  responsibility  as  a  Church  was  to  use  the  best  means  of  converting, 

28 


434  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

and  to  implore  God's  grace  on  the  means.  But  he  would  ask  those  who 
judge  the  Mission  by  the  number  of  converts,  to  find  out  how  many  conver- 
sions had  taken  place  in  their  own  parishes  during  the  same  time.  Let  them 
go  down  to  the  village,  and  entering  a  house,  say  they  will  not  leave  it  till 
they  bring  the  men  and  women  to  Christ.  Let  them  go  to  the  man  of 
science,  who  had  mastered  many  of  the  questions  of  the  day  ;  let  them  not 
call  him  proud,  or  sneer  at  him  as  a  'natural  man,'  for  he  maybe  most 
earnest,  and  may  be  sweating  a  more  bloody  sweat  in  seeking  to  come  to  the 
truth  than  they  had  done ;  let  them  go  to  that  man  and  satisfy  his  doubts, 
meet  him  fairly  before  God,  and  when  they  returned  from  such  a  visitation 
as  that,  they  would  have  more  sympathy  with  missionaries  dealing  with 
educated  heathens." 

The  chief  purpose  of  his  speech,  however,  took  wider  ground.  He 
desired  all  Churches  to  consider  whether  the  forms  in  which  they  were 
presenting  truth,  and  the  ecclesiastical  differences  they  were  exporting 
to  India,  were  the  best  means  for  Christianizing  that  country.  Was  it 
right  that  the  divisions  which  separated  Churches  in  this  country,  and 
which  were  the  growth  of  their  special  histories,  should  not  only  he 
continued,  but  be  made  as  great  matters  of  principle  in  India  as  in 
England  or  Scotland  ? 


o 


"  When  these  Hindoos  heard  an  Anglican  bishop  declare  that  he  did 
not  recognise  as  belonging  to  Christ's  Church  congregations  of  faithful  men 
holding  a  pure  gospel  and  observing  the  sacraments  of  the  Lord ;  when  they 
met  others  who  said,  'You  must  accept  all  these  Calvinistic  doctrines;' 
and  when  the  Wesleyans  came  next  and  said,  '  God  forbid !  don't  bring 
these  things  in  ; '  and  the  Baptist  came  with  his  idolatry  of  sacrament, 
saying,  '  You  must  be  a  Baptist,  you  must  be  dipped  again;'  and  when 
the  Roman  Catholic  came  and  said,  '  You  are  all  wrong  together ; '  is  it  any 
wonder  that  the  Hindoo,  pressed  on  every  side  by  different  forms  of 
Western  Christianity,  should  say,  '  Gentlemen,  I  thank  you  for  the  good 
you  have  done  me,  but  as  I  am  sore  perplexed  by  you  all,  take  yourselves 
off,  leave  me  alone  with  God,  then  I  will  be  fairly  dealt  with.'  It  was  a 
positive  shame — it  was  a  disgrace — that  they  should  take  with  them  to 
India  the  differences  that  separated  them  a  few  yards  from  their  brethren 
in  this  country.  Is  it  not  monstrous  to  make  the  man  they  ordained  on 
the  banks  of  the  Ganges  sign  the  Westminster  Confession  of  the  Church 
of  Scotland  or  the  Deed  of  Demission  and  Brotest  of  the  Free  Church? 
Was  that  the  wisest,  was  it  the  Christian  way  of  dealing  with  Hindoos  1 
....  And  were  they  presenting  the  truth  to  the  native  mind  in  the 
form  best  fitted  for  his  requirements]  The  doctrines  of  their  Confes- 
sions might  be  true  in  themselves,  but  the  Confession  was  a  document 
closely  connected  with  the  historical  development  and  with  the  metaphysi- 
cal temperament  of  the  people  who  had  accepted  it,  and  might  not  be  equally 
suitable  for  those  who  had  not  the  same  traditions  and  tendencies.  Was  it 
necessary  to  give  these  minute  and  abstract  statements  to  Orientals  whose 
habits  of  mind  and  spiritual  affinities  might  lay  better  hold  on  other  aspects 
of  divine  truth,  and  who  might  mould  a  Lheology  for  themselves,  not  less 
Christian,  but  which  would  be  Indian,  and   not  English  or  Scotch?     The 


HIS  UK  AT II.  435 

block  of  ice,  clear  and  cold,  the  beautiful  proiluct  of  our  northern  climes, 
will  at  the  slightest  touch  freeze  the  warm  lips  of  the  Hindoo.  Why  insist 
that  he  must  take  that  or  nothing]  Would  it  not  be  better  to  let  the 
stream  flow  freely  that  the  Eastern  may  quench  his  thirst  at  will  from 
God's  own  water  of  life  1  Would  it  not  be  possible  for  the  Evangelical 
<  hurches  to  drop  their  peculiarities,  and  in  the  unselfishness  of  the  common 
faith  construct  a  Primer,  or  make  the  Apostles'  Creed  their  symbol,  and 
say,  'This  is  aot  all  you  are  going  to  learn,  but  if  you  receive  this  truth 
and  be  strong  in  the  faith,  we  will  'receive  you  so  walking,  but  not  to 
doubtful  disputations;  and,  if  in  anything  ye  be  otherwise  minded,  God 
will  reveal  even  this  unto  you?'  And  they  should  make  known  the  truth 
not  only  by  books  but  by  living  men.  Send  them  the  missionary.  Let  him. 
be  a  man  who  embodies  Christianity  ;  and  if  he  was  asked,  '  What  is  a 
Christian  ! '  he  could  answer,  '  I  am  ;  I  know  and  love  Christ,  and  wish  you 
to  know  Him  and  love  Him  too.'  That  man  in  his  justice,  generosity,  love, 
self-sacrifice,  would  make  the  Hindoo  feel  that  he  had  a  brother  given  him 
by  a  common  Father.  Let  them  prepare  the  Hindoos  to  form  a  Church  for 
themselves.  Give  them  the  gunpowder,  and  they  will  make  their  own 
cannon." 

While  advocating  these  catholic  aims,  he  did  not  forget  that  spirit 
of  ecclesiasticism,  and  those  prejudices  and  bigotries  he  was  offending. 
He  rose  into  indignant  remonstrance  as  he  thought  of  how  India  might 
possibly  be  sacrificed  to  the  timidity  of  some  of  the  clergy  afraid  to 
speak  out  their  thoughts,  or,  still  worse,  to  the  policy  of  others  who,  in 
the  critical  position  of  the  Church  at  home,  were  cautious  not  to  verify 
the  accusations  of  latitudinarianism  made  against  her  by  interested 
opponents. 

"  You  must  take  care  lest  by  insisting  on  the  minutisa  of  doctrine  or 
government,  you  are  not  raising  a  barrier  to  the  advances  of  Christianity. 
You  must  take  heed  lest  things  infinitesimally  small  as  compared  with  the 
great  world,  may  not  be  kept  so  near  the  eye  as  to  conceal  the  whole  world 
from  you.  A  man  may  so  wrap  a  miserable  partisan  newspaper  round  his 
head  as  to  shut  out  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars.  You  must  take  care  that 
your  Cairns  do  not  stand  so  near  as  to  shut  out  Calcutta,  and  the  Watch- 
word make  you  so  tremble  for  petty  consequences  at  home  that  all  India  is 
forgotten  by  you.  I  am  not  speaking  for  myself  alone,"  he  added,  "  for  I 
know  how  these  difficulties  press  upon  many  a  missionary — and  remember 
how  more  than  one  has  taken  my  hand,  and  said  we  dare  not  speak  out  on 
these  things,  lest  our  own  names  be  blasted,  ourselves  represented  as  un- 
safe, and  all  home-confidence  be  removed  from  us.  But  why  should  they  be 
afraid  of  such  reproach  ]  Why  should  I  be  afraid  of  it  1  Am  I  to  be  silent 
lest  I  should  be  whispered  about,  or  suspected,  or  called  '  dangerous,'  '  broad ' 
'  latitudinarian,'  '  atheistic  V  So  long  as  I  have  a  good  conscience  towards 
God,  and  have  His  sun  to  shine  on  me,  and  can  hear  the  birds  singing,  I 
can  walk  across  the  earth  with  a  joyful  and  free  heart.  Let  them  call  me 
1  broad.'  I  desire  to  be  broad  as  the  charity  of  Almighty  God,  who  maketh 
His  sxm  to  shine  on  the  evil  and  the  good  ;  who  hateth  no  man,  and  who 
loveth   the   poorest  Hindoo  more  than  all  their  committees   or  all  their 


s 


43G  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

Churches.  But  while  I  long  for  that  breadth  of  charity,  I  desire  to  be 
narrow — narrow  as  God's  righteousness,  which  as  a  sharp  sword  can  separate 
between  eternal  right  and  eternal  wrong." 

No  one  then  present  cn.11  forget  tlie  thrilling  power,  the  manly  bear- 
ing, the  intensity  of  suppressed  feeling,  with  which  these  words  were 
uttered. 

In  a  few  following  sentences  he  explained  how  lie  was  compelled  to 
relinquish  all  public  work  for  the  future,  thanked  his  brethren  for  the 
kindness  lie  had  received  from  them,  and  bidding  farewell  to  the 
Church  lie  had  served  with  life-long  affection,  he  ended  in  accents 
broken  with  emotion,  "  If  I  forget  thee,  0  Jerusalem,  let  mv  right  hand 
forget  her  cunning — if  I  prefer  not  Jerusalem  above  my  chief  joy." 

It  was  a  last  and  fatal  effort.  The  hearts  of  many  present 
trembled  for  him  as  they  watched  the  unnatural  flush  upon  his 
cheeks,  and  marked  the  expenditure  of  energy  the  exertion  cost  him. 
To  more  than  one  of  those  whose  eye  wistfully  followed  him,  as  he  left 
the  house,  the  sad  foreboding  came  that  it  was  their  last  look  of  him. 


"  I  was  so  glad,"  one  writes,  "  I  heard  that  magnificent  oration.  When 
it  was  over,  I  bowed  rny  head  in  my  hands,  wishing  to  shut  out  everything 
but  the  solemn  thoughts  such  words  had  conjured  up.  I  felt  how  much  too 
sreat  the  exertion  had  been  for  him.  I  took  a  loin*  last  look  at  him  before 
I  left — the  convietion  being  somehow  strong  upon  me  that  with  my  mortal 
eves  I  should  never  see  him  again." 


~ol 


For  the  next  few  days  he  complained  of  uneasiness  and  unaccount- 
able depression  of  spirits,  but  was  able  to  preach  in  his  own  church  on 
the  afternoon  of  the  following  Lord's-day.  It  was  his  last  sermon,  and 
on  the  strikingly  appropriate  subject,  "  We  have  forsaken  all,  and 
followed  Thee  ;  what  shall  we  have,  therefore  ?"  A  sheet  of  note-paper 
contains  all  he  had  written  beforehand,  but  it  is  enough  to  show  that 
his  last  counsels  to  his  people  were  strangely  in  harmony  with  the 
situation.  His  theme  was  the  way  in  which  Christ  educated  His 
disciples,  and  he  urged  upon  his  hearers  the  truth  that  if  they  were 
willing  to  accept  His  guidance  every  day,  they  would  at  last  be  prepared 
cheerfully  to  surrender  life  and  all  into  His  hands. 

Next  day,  the  3rd  of  June,  he  was  to  enter  his  sixty-first  year,  and 
he  had  such  a  strong  desire  to  have  all  his  family  with  him  on  this 
birthday,  that  he  brought  his  aged  mother  from  the  country  and  asked 
leave  for  his  son  to  come  from  Liverpool.  There  was  no  foreboding  in 
all  this  of  immediate  danger.  He  said  and  did  some  things  which 
afterwards  seemed  to  indicate  a  feeling  of  approaching  death.  When 
at  Balmoral  the  previous  week  he  spoke  to  more  than  one  of  its  being 
his  last  visit,  and  in  some  of  his  letters  there  were  expressions  so  solemn 
as  to  have  startled  the  friends  who  received  them.  But  he  did  not 
really  think  that  his  end  was  so  near.  A  great  sadness  weighed  on 
him,  a  weariness  of  the  noise  and  disputing^  of  men,  of  "  the  burden 


HIS  DEATH.  437 

and  the  mystery  "  of  life  ;  and  out  of  this  aroi  e  a  ra  n  (  hildlike  clii 
ing  to  ChTist  and  to  the  love  and  goodness  of  God.  Deeply  affected  by 
the  disturbed  condition  of  opinion  in  the  world  and  the  Church,  he 
cherished  only  a  fuller  confidence  in  order  finally  coming  out  of  dis- 
order; and  feeling  his  own  life-work  was  over,  he  entered  the  more 
keenly  into  speculations  as  to  the  character  of  the  life  beyond  the 
grave.  The  future  state,  the  society,  occupations  and  joy  of  the  blessed 
dead,  had  been  a  favourite  theme  with  him  for  many  years,  but  during 
the  last  few  days  of  his  life,  it  seemed  to  engross  his  thoughts.  No 
friend  could  be  with  him  for  many  minutes  without  his  reverting  to 
it.  Under  the  influence  of  the  same  feelings  he  spoke  of  his  death. 
"  My  father  often  took  me  at  that  time  to  drive  with  him,"  writes  one 
of  his  daughters.  "  He  talked,  or  rather  thought  aloud,  almost  always 
about  death  and  dying — the  dread  every  one  has  of  the  act  of  dying ; 
•and  how  merciful  it  was,  that  though  a  man  in  health  tears  death,  yet 
when  he  is  weakened  by  disease,  he  is  indifferent  to  its  terror ; 
"  above  all,  what  a  comfort  it  is  to  know  that  the  Man  Christ  Jesus 
died  ! "  On  Friday  after  he  was  taken  ill,  I  was  sitting  on  his  bed 
hearing  how  he  was,  and  he  said,  "  How  dreadful  it  would  be  if  a  God 
of  hate  ruled  the  world  ;  how  he  could  torture  us  !  For  instance,  he 
could  make  us  die  more  than  once,  and  each  death  become  a  dreadful 
experience.  Let  us  thank  God  for  His  love.  After  all,"  he  added 
after  a  pause,  "death  is  a  wrong  name  for  it — it  is  birth  into  the 
true  life." 

The  greater  part  of  Monday,  3rd  June,  was  spent  by  him  alone  in 
the  outside  study.  He  passed  the  day  chiefly  in  writing  letters  to 
valued  friends  and  in  quiet  meditation.  One  of  his  aunts  found  him 
reading  the  seventy-first  psalm,  and  he  at  once  made  it  the  ground- 
work of  one  of  those  oiuVpourings  of  his  deepest,  most  inward  expe- 
riences which  none  who  ever  heard  them  can  forget.  In  the  evening 
all  his  family  were  gathered  round  his  table. 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"June  2. — To-morrow,  if  I  live,  I  am  sixty.  I  enter  on  the  last  decade 
allotted  to  man.  I  cannot  take  it  in.  In  one  sense  I  am  young  in  heart.  I 
dream,  as  I  have,  alas  !  done  for  many  a  year,  of  what  I  may,  or  might  do — 
in  literature,  in  practical  work,  in  many  a  thing.  While  I  dream  life  passes, 
powers  fail,  and  I  feel  as  one  who  had  done  nothing,  and  know  that  I  have 
done  little  in  comparison  with  what  I  could  have  done,  had  I  only  been 
self-denying  and  diligent  in  college  and  in  riper  years.  I  confess  with  shame 
my  off-putting,  my  want  of  painstaking  and  earnestness  in  mastering  diffi- 
culties and  details,  my  indolence,  and  selfishness,  and  want  of  principle,  in 
not  attending  each  day,  from  youth  upwards,  in  doing,  to  the  best  of  my 
ability,  that  one  work,  whether  of  mastering  a  lesson  or  anything  else,  given 
me  to  do.  It  is  no  comfort  to  tell  me  what  I  have  done,  for  it  is  false  com- 
fort. I  feel  it  truer  to  confess  what  I  have  not  done,  what  I  ought  to  have 
done,  what  I  could  have  done,  and  which  being  left  undone  has  been  a  felt, 
real,  and  shameful  loss  to  me  all  my  life.     Whatever  a  man's  natural  talent 


433  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

may  be,  whatever  success  he  has  had  in  the  world,  whatever  good  he  has 
accomplished,  it  yet  remains  true  that  he  would  have  been  better,  wiser, 
more  influential,  and  glorified  God  far  more  if  he  had  been  a  careful,  accu- 
rate, diligent  scholar  at  school  and  college,  and  acquired  those  habits  of 
study,  that  foundation  of  knowledge,  without  which  talent  is  stunted,  and 
genius  itself  is  very  far  from  accomplishing  that  which  it  otherwise  could 
do.  God  blesses  the  self-sacrifice  of  study,  and  that  I  never  had  in  my 
youth,  and  for  that  I  have  suffered,  and  more  especially  as  I  have  in  later 
years  become  fully  alive  to  its  importance.  Morally  and  intellectually  I 
am  a  dismasted  wreck,  praising  and  blessing  God  if  I  get  into  the  harbour, 
and  reverencing  those  who  are  good  men,  because  they  have  been  all  their 
lives  dutiful. 

"  My  life  has  been  to  me  a  mystery  of  love.  I  know  that  God's  education 
of  each  man  is  in  perfect  righteousness.  I  know  that  the  best  on  earth  have 
been  the  greatest  sufferers,  because  they  were  the  best,  and,  like  gold,  could 
stand  the  fire  and  be  purified  by  it.  I  know  this,  and  a  great  deal  more, 
and  yet  the  mercy  of  God  to  me  is  such  a  mystery,  that  I  have  been  tempted 
to  think  that  I  was  utterly  unworthy  of  suffering. 

i:  God  have  mercy  on  my  thoughts  !  I  may  be  unable  to  stand  suffering. 
I  do  not  know.  But  I  lay  myself  at  Thy  feet  and  say — not  that  I  am  pre- 
pared— but  that  Thou  art  good,  and  wise,  and  wilt  prepare  me.  I  am  a  poor, 
selfish  creature. 

"  God  is  all  in  all. 

"God  is  love.     Amen. 

'■'  The  doctors  tell  me  I  am  in  danger,  and  that  unless  I  give  up  work  I 
may  not  live.  I  have  been  ill  for  the  last  sixteen  years.  The  doctors  tell 
me  that  I  must  get  quit  of  worry.  I  have,  by  their  command,  given  up  on 
Thursday  last  the  Convenership  of  the  India  Mission.  I  feel  this.  I  spoke 
an  hour  and  a  half  on  the  subject,  but  the  reports  of  my  speech  are  fearful; 
empty  of  all  I  said  that  is  worth  anything,  full  of  horrors  and  absurdities  I 
never  said." 

To  Principal  SnAiEP: — 

"3rd  June,  1872. 

"  I  am  three-score  years  to-day  ! 

"  John,  dear,  I  cannot  speak  about  myself.  I  am  dumb  with  thoughts 
that  cannot  be  uttered. 

"  The  doctors  tell  me  that  unless  by  rest  of  body  and  mind  I  can  conquer 
incipient  disease,  it  will  kill  me. 

"  So  I  am  obeying  to  the  best  of  my  ability. 

"  As  I  feel  time  so  rapidly  passing,  I  take  your  hand,  dear  old  friend, 
with  a  firmer  grip  ! 

"  I  have  many  friends  ;  few  old  ones  ! 

"  Oh  that  I  loved  my  oldest  and  truest,  my  Father  and  Saviour,  better  ! 
But  should  I  enter  heaven  as  a  forlorn  ship,  dismasted,  and  a  mere  log — it 
is  enough — for  I  will  be  repaired. 

"  But  I  have  been  a  poor  concern,  and  have  no  peace  but  in  God's  mercy 
to  a  miserable  sinner. 

"  I  spoke  in  the  Assembly  on  India  Missions  for  an  hour  and  a  half.  I 
will  probably  print  it.     It  is  my  programme  for  India.     It  knocked  me  up." 


HIS  DEATH.  439 

To  Mrs.  Macnab  (Sister  of  Dr.  Maelcod  Campbell): — 

"ZrdJune,  1872. 
"3rd  June,  1812. 

"  You  did  not  intend  it  to  be  a  birthday  gift  to  the  child  you  had  in  your 
anus  sixty  years  ago  !  But  so  it  is,  and  it  is  doubly  precious  as  a  pledge  of 
a  love  that  has  remained  ever  bright  for  three-score  years,  and  will  be 
brighter  still  when  time  shall  be  no  more.  God  bless  you  and  preserve  you 
to  us  on  earth !  I  am  dumb  with  a  sense  of  awe,  and  full  of  thoughts  that 
cannot  be  uttered.  My  only  rest  in  thinking  of  the  past  and  anticipating 
the  future  is  in  the  one  thought  of  'God  my  Father.' 

"I  am  so  glad  you  would  like  me  to  re-publish  my  sketch  of  dear  John 
Campbell.  What  would  you  say  to  putting  in  an  appendix:  some  extracts 
from  his  books,  expressive  of  his  leading  'views?  This  might  help  some 
souls  in  perplexity,  and  induce  them  to  read  his  books,  They  would  be  of 
use  in  India. 

"  As  to  his  letters,  &c,  no  one  felt  more  strongly  than  John  Mackinto  h 
regarding  biographies.  The  only  thing  which  induced  us  to  go  against  his 
expressed  wishes  was  the  conviction,  that  now  he  would  wish  to  do  whatever 
seemed  best  to  others,  whom  he  loved  and  trusted,  for  the  glory  of  God. 
And  surely  the  result  justified  us.'  It  seems  to  me  that  the  responsibility 
of  not  permitting  men  to  speak  when  dead  is  as  great  as  in  enabling  them 
to  do  so.  How  is  it  likely  they  would  judge  now  1  is  a  question  I  cannot 
help  putting." 

To  Rev.  A.  Clerk,  whose  son,  Duncan  Clerk,  was  then  dying  : — 

"June  3,  1S72. 

"  It  is  very  solemn  and  very  affecting,  and  I  need  not  say  how  deeply  we 
sympathize  with  you.  Yet  there  is  but  One  who  can  do  so  perfectly,  and 
give  you  and  dear  Jessie  faith  and  strength  at  this  terrible  crisis.  I  feel 
how  impossible  it  is  to  convey  in  words  what  one  would  like  to  say  at  such 
a  time,  if  indeed  silence  does  not  best  express  the  sense  of  darkness  and  op- 
pression. I  enter  to-clay  my  sixty-first  year,  and  have  my  mother  and  all 
my  family  around  me,  and  the  contrast  presented  between  my  house  and 
yours  makes  your  affliction  only  moie  dark  and  solemn.  We  can  only  fall 
back  on  God  to  deliver  me  from  a  slavish  fear  of  coming  sorrows,  and  you, 
my  dear  Archv,  from  a  want  of  faith  in  His  constant  and  deep  love  to  you 
and  yours.  What  God  may  be  giving  you  in  this  form,  I  don't  know.  But  I 
am  sure  He  is  giving.  Those  He  has  taken,  and  seems  to  be  taking,  have  been 
among  His  elect  ones  if  any  such  there  be  on  earth.  A  finer  boy  than  Dun- 
can could  not  be.  Every  one  loved  and  respected  him.  He  was  a  girl  in 
purity,  a  child  in  humility,  modesty,  and  obedience  !  Fit  for  Heaven  !  fit 
to  join  his  sainted  sister  and  brothers.  You  have  both  sent  precious  trea- 
sures there  to  be  your  own  riches  for  ever,  and  I  doubt  not  every  soul  in 
your  house  will  get  a  blessing.  A  holy  family  !  what  an  awful  gift  from 
God  !  I  don't  wish  to  speak  about  myself,  but  I  am  not  well.  The  doctors 
have  discovered  symptoms  so  serious  in  me  as  to  necessitate  my  getting  rest 
for  mind  and  body,  and  so  ward  off  what  would  very  soon  kill  me.  So  I 
gave  up  the  India  Mission,  and  am  trying  to  sell  my  house  in  town,  and  get 
one  iu  the  country.  All  my  lameness,  weariness,  all  are  from  the  same 
3ause.     I  am  utterly  unable  to  stand  fatigue,  and  I  am  still  suffering  from 


440  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

my  long  (one  hour  and  a  half)  speech  and  probably  my  last  in  the  Assembly. 
I  fear  to  attempt  to  go  to  you,  as  I  believe  I  would  add  to  your  trouble,  I 
get  so  prostrate.  I  am  seriously  alarmed  for  myself  and  see  no  escape  at 
present." 

To  the  Marchioness  of  Ely  (then  Lady  in  Waiting  at  Balmoral): — 

"ZrdJune,  1872. 
"  My  Dear  Lady  Ely, 

"  Whether  it  is  that  my  head  is  empty  or  my  heart  full,  or  that 
both  conditions  are  realised  in  my  experience,  the  fact,  however,  is  that  I 
cannot  express  myself  as  I  feel,  in  replying  to  your  ladyship's  kind — far  too 
kind — note,  which  I  received  when  in  the  whirlwind,  or  miasma  of  Assem- 
bly business.  Thanks  deep  and  true  to  you  and  to  my  Sovereign  Lady  for 
thinking  of  me.  I  spoke  for  nearly  two  hours  in  the  Assembly,  which  did 
no  good  to  me,  nor  I  fear  to  any  other  !  I  was  able  to  preach  yesterday. 
As  I  have  got  nice  summer  quarters,  I  hope  to  recruit,  so  as  to  cast  off  this 
dull,  hopeless  sort  of  feeling.  I  ought  to  be  a  happy,  thankful  man  to-day. 
I  am  to-day  sixty,  and  round  my  table  will  meet  my  mother,  my  wife,  and 
all  my  nine  children,  six  brothers  and  sisters,  and  two  aunts — one.  eighty- 
nine,  the  other  seventy-six,  and  all  these  are  a  source  of  joy  and  thanksgiv- 
ing. "Why  such  mercies  to  me,  and  such  suffering  as  I  often  see  sent  to  the 
best  on  earth  1  God  alone  knows.  I  don't.  But  I  am  sure  he  always  acts 
as  a  wise,  loving,  and  impartial  Father  to  all  His  children.  What  we  know 
not  now,  we  shall  know  hereafter.  God  bless  the  Queen  for  all  her  un- 
wearied goodness  !  I  admire  her  as  a  woman,  love  her  as  a  friend,  and  re- 
verence her  as  a  Queen ;  and  you  know  that  what  I  say,  I  feel.  Her 
courage,  patience,   and  endurance  are  marvellous  to  me." 

From  his  Journal  : — 

"  June  3. — I  am  this  day  three-score  years. 

"  The  Lord  is  mysterious  in  His  ways  !     I  bless  and  praise  Him. 

"  I  commit  myself  and  my  all  into  His  loving  hands,  feeling  the  high  im- 
probability of  such  a  birthday  as  this  ever  being  repeated. 

"  But  we  shall  be  united  after  the  last  birthday  into  heaven. 

"  Glory  to  God,  for  His  mercy  towards  us  guilty  sinners,  through  Jesus 
Christ,  His  Son,  my  Lord. 

"  I  preached  at  Balmoral  ('Thy  Kingdom  come'),  on  the  27th  May.  The 
Queen,  as  usual,  very  kind.  As  she  noticed  my  feebleness,  she  asked  me  to 
be  seated  during  the  private  interview.  When  last  at  Balmoral,  I  met 
Forster  (the  Cabinet  Minister)  there.  He  and  Helps  and  I  had  great  argu- 
ments on  all  important  theological  questions  till  very  late.  I  never  was 
more  impressed  by  any  man,  as  deep,  independent,  thoroughly  honest  and 
sincere.  I  conceived  a  great  love  for  him.  I  never  met  a  statesman  whom, 
for  high-minded  honesty  and  justice,  I  would  sooner  follow.  He  will  be 
Premier  some  day. 

"  Dear  Helps  !   man  of  men,  or  rather  brother  of  brothers. 

"  The  last  Assemby  has  been  the  most  reactionary  I  have  ever  seen  ;  all 
because  Dr.  Cairns  and  others  have  attacked  the  Church  for  her  latitudinarian- 
ism  !  The  lectures  of  Stanley  have  aroused  the  wrath  of  the  Pharisees,  and 
every  trembler  wishes  to  prove  that  we  are  not  latitudinarian,  forsooth  !    If 


HIS  DEATH.  441 

by  this  term  is  meant  any  want  of  faith  in  the  teaching  of  ('hiist  and  ]Iis 
apostles,  any  want  of  faith  in  the  Ui !►!<»,  or  in  the  supernatural,  or  in 
Christ's  person  or  atonement  (though  not  the  Church  theory),  or  in  all  the  i 
sentials  of  the  faith  common  to  the  Church  catholic  ;  then  I  am  no  latitu- 
ditiarian.  But  if  by  this  is  meant  that  man's  conscience  or  reason  (in  Cole- 
ridge's sense)  is  not  the  ultimate  judge  of  a  divine  revelation,  that  I  am 
bound  to  stick  to  the  letter  of  the  Confession,  and  to  believe,  for  example, 
that  all  mankind  are  damned  to  '  excruciating  torments  in  soul  and  body 
for  all  eternity,'  because  of  Adam's  sin,  and  the  original  corruption  springing 
therefrom,  and  that  God  has  sent  a  Saviour  for  a  select  few  only,  and  that 
death  determines  the  eternal  condition  of  all  men  ;  then,  thank  Cod,  I  am 
a  latitudinarian,  have  preached  it,  confessed  it,  and  can  die  for  it !  Nothing 
amazes  or  pains  me  more  than  the  total  absence  of  all  pain,  all  anxiety,  all 
sense  of  burden  or  of  difficulty  among  nine-tenths  of  the  clergy  I  meet,  as  to 
questions  which  keep  other  men  sleepless.  Give  me  only  a  man  who 
knows,  who  feels,  who  takes  in,  however  feebly  (like  myself),  the  life  and 
death  problems  which  agitate  the  best  (yes,  the  best)  and  most  thoughtful 
among  clergy  and  laity,  who  thinks  and  prays  about  them,  who  feels  the 
difficulties  which  exist,  who  has  faith  in  Cod  that  the  right  will  come  right, 
in  God's  way,  if  not  in  his,  I  am  strengthened,  comforted,  and  feel  deeply 
thankful  to  be. taught.  But  what  good  can  self-satisfied,  infallible  Ultra- 
montanes  do  for  a  poor,  weak,  perplexed  soul  1  Nay,  what  good  can  puppies 
do  who  may  accept  congenial  conclusions  without  feeling  the  difficulties  by 
which  they  are  surrounded  1  What  have  I  suffered  and  endured  in  this  my 
little  back  study,  which  I  must  soon  leave  !  How  often  from  my  books 
have  I  gazed  out  of  this  window  before  me,  and  found  strength  and  peace  in 
the  little  bit  of  the  sky  revealed,  with  its  big  cumuli  clouds,  its  far  away 
cirri  streaks,  and,  farther  still,  its  deep,  unfathomable  blue — its  infinite 
depths  I  could  not  pierce  !  yet  seeing — in  the  great  sunlight,  in  the  glory 
of  cloud-land,  in  the  peace  of  the  sky — such  a  revelation  of  God  as  made  mc 
say,  '  The  Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice  !' 

"  The  older  I  get  I  find  more  and  more  teaching  from  God's  revelation  ia 
nature. 

"  The  confusion  that  exists  at  this  moment,  and  which  began  soon  after 
the  war  of  '15,  and  is  as  eventful  as  the  Reformation,  is  most  oppressive. 

' '  '  Everything  is  sundering, 
And  everyone  is  wondering, 
As  this  huge  globe  goes  thundering 
On,  for  ever  on.'  " 

"  On  the  one  hand,  there  is  a  breaking  up  of  the  old  forms  of  thought 
about  everything,  social,  political,  scientific,  philosophic,  and  theological. 
In  spite  of  much  foolish  conceit  and  sense  of  power  on  the  part  of  those 
who  guide  the  battering-rams  against  the  old  walls,  there  is  on  the  part  of 
many  more,  a  great  sense  of  the  paramount  importance  of  truth  and  duty 
which,  if  piously  considered,  would  but  express  faith  in  God,  who  is  ever 
on  the  side  of  truth,  whether  Huxley,  Darwin,  or  any  other  express  it, 
albeit  without  sympathy  for  the  speakers  unless  they  be  truthful.  On  the 
part  of  the  defenders  there  are  all  shades  of  feeling.  Not  a  fe\v  from  faith 
in  God  and  Christ,  and  in  the  verities  of  that  moral  and  spiritual  kingdom 


442  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

which,  having  in  themselves,  they  know  cannot  be  moved,  accept  of  these 
attacks,  not  as  from  real  enemies,  but  friends,  because  believing  that  Chris- 
tianity will  ever  be  found  far  ahead  of  men,  will  soon  '  prepare  a  place'  for 
all  real  truth,  so  that  wherever  Christ  is,  there  it  may  be  also.  But  others 
are  in  terror,  and  either  refuse  to  look  at  what  professes  to  be  truth  in  the 
face,  and  only  call  its  professors  nick-names,  or  try  the  Romish  Syllabus 
dodge,  and  gather  into  clubs,  like  Jesuits,  and  in  vain,  by  assertion,  try  to 
stop  the  movement. 

"  So  we  are  split  up  into  fragments,  and  while  Rome  remains  whole, — 
in  its  blindness  swearing  there  is  no  light  because  it  does  not  see  it,  and 
cursing  all  eye-doctors  and  spectacles. 

"  As  for  Scotland  !  The  Church  of  the  future  is  not  here  !  We  ignore 
great  world-questions.     We  squabble  like  fish  women  over  skate  and  turbot. 

"  Where  is  the  germ  of  the  Church  of  the  future  1  In  what  Church  1 
In  what  ci-eed  1  In  what  forms  of  Government  1  It  may  come  from  India, 
as  the  first  came  from  the  East.  But  all  our  old  forms  are  effete,  as  old 
oaks,  although  young  ones  may  grow  out  of  them.  Neither  Calvinism,  nor 
Presbyterianism,  nor  Thirty-nine  Articles,  nor  High  Churchism,  nor  Low 
Churchism,  nor  any  existing  organization  can  be  the  Church  of  the  future  ! 
May  God  give  us  patience  to  wait !  It  may  be  a  thousand,  or  throe 
thousand  years  yet,  ere  it  comes,  but  come  it  will  !  I  do  not  think  any 
Broad  Church  can  be  the  Church  yet;  it  wants  definiteness  to  meet  the  com- 
mon mind  of  rough  humanity.  But  in  a  Church  it  can  modify  and  liberal- 
ise extremes,  witness  for  individuality  against  any  extreme  views  of  the 
body,  and  so  help  to  an  ultimate  solution  of  the  problem  between  the 
individual  and  the  Church.  I  shall  see  it  from  the  other  side  ;  but  not 
from  this. 

"  I  resigned  the  Convenership  of  the  India  Mission  as  I  have  said.  I 
made  a  long  speech  not  reported.  Dear  Watson  has  been  rejected  as  Con- 
vener. Herdman  appointed.  This  is  of  interest  merely  as  showing  the 
contest  between  the  parties  in  the  Church.  These  are  the  Ultra-Evangeli- 
cal and  the  Liberal." 

Thus  ends  the  journal  he  kept  so  faithfully  through  his  busy  life. 

On  the  same  clay  his  birthday  festival  was  held  with  a  joy  that  was 
shadowed  by  haunting  fears  of  coming  change.  His  worn  and  shat- 
tered aspect,  and  his  sad,  tender  bearing,  suggested  painful  forebodings 
to  those  who  loved  him,  and  who  could  scarcely  refrain  from  showing 
their  anxiety. 

On  the  following  Thursday  he  took  his  mother  and  aunt  for  a  drive 
in  an  open  carriage.  The  day  was  treacherous,  and,  before  they 
returned,  the  bright  sunshine,  which  had  tempted  them  to  go  out, 
departed,  and  a  piercing  east  wind  came  on.  In  his  anxiety  for  his 
delicate  aunt  he  wrapped  his  own  plaid  round  her,  and  exposed  him- 
self to  a  chill,  which,  in  his  broken  condition  of  health,  proved  fatal. 
When  he  came  home  he  was  seized  with  a  shiver,  followed  by  an  in- 
tense pain  in  the  chest,  and  for  the  next  few  days  experienced  extreme 
suffering,  combined  with  overpowering  attacks  of  sickness.  He  spent 
some  hours  that  evening  with  his  mother,  and  aunts,  and  sister,  who 


HIS  DEATH.  443 

resided  a  few  doors  from  his  own  house.  It  was  the  day  of  a  funeral 
of  a  favourite  nephew,  Duncan  Clerk,  and  partly  to  comfort  his  sor- 
rowing niece,  who  was  present,  as  well  as  to  give  expression  to  thoughts 
of  which  his  mind  was  full,  he  talked  with  more  than  usual  power — 
almost  with  excitement — regarding  the  glorified  life  of  those  who  had 
departed  in  the  Lord.  He  recalled  the  names  and  characters  of  de- 
ceased relatives,  and  described  the  joy  of  meeting  and  recognising 
them,  lie  spoke  of  his  father,  of  James,  of  sisters  and  uncles  who 
were  dead,  and  of  John  Mackintosh;  and  when  one  of  the  party 
chanced  to  allude  to  their  departure  as  a  loss,  he  vehemently  remon- 
strated, against  such  a  view.  "  Love  is  possession,  love  is  possession," 
he  repeated  with  an  emphasis,  which  those  who  listened  to  him  have 
since  learned  to  apply  to  the  separation  they  feared,  hut  the  imminence 
of  which  they  did  not  then  anticipate.  Before  parting  from  his  mother 
that  evening — the  last  they  were  to  spend  together  on  earth — he 
poured  out  his  soul  in  a  prayer  which  melted  every  heart.  It  was  a 
triumphant  thanksgiving  to  God,  which  recalled  his  own  past  history, 
and  the  history  of  the  family,  revived  the  names  of  many  dear  ones 
who  had  entered  into  rest,  and  concluded  with  a  glorious  profession 
of  gratitude,  confidence,  and  joy. 

His  restlessness  night  and  day  hecame  dreadful,  but  as  the  symp- 
toms seemed  to  arise  from  indigestion,  for  a  time  no  strong  measures 
were  taken.  In  order  to  alleviate  this,  and  to  give  him  greater  free- 
dom, Mrs.  Macleod  removed,  his  bed  to  the  drawing-room.  The  pain 
gradually  lessened,  but  his  strength  went  visibly  down,  and  his  brother, 
Professor  Macleod,  who  had  been  out  of  town,  was,  on  his  return,  so 
much  struck  by  the  change  in  his  appearance,  that,  though  not  antici- 
pating any  immediately  fatal  result,  he  suspected  the  imminence  of 
graver  complications.  In  order  to  secure  complete  rest  for  him,  ar- 
rangements were  made  for  his  giving  up  every  kind  of  work  for  six 
months.  This  fact  was  communicated  to  him  on  Tuesday  the  11th, 
and  was  received  with  perfect  composure ;  but  when  his  brother  left, 
Mrs.  Macleod  found  him  in  the  drawing-room  deadly  pale  and  nearly 
fainting.  The  proposal  had  shocked  him  more  than  he  knew,  as  indi- 
cating the  cessation  of  his  active  life ;  but  he  revived  after  a  little,  and 
spoke  of  how  delightful  it  would  be  to  take  all  his  children  to  Canh- 
stadt,  and  how  he  would  enjoy  six  months'  rest  with  his  family  and 
his  books. 

The  rapid  sinking  of  his  strength,  the  increasing  tendency  to  faint- 
ness,  the  casual  rambling  of  his  thoughts,  showed,  however,  too  plainly 
the  severity  of  the  attack,  and  his  medical  attendants  held  a  consulta- 
tion on  Thursday,  in  which  Professor  Gairdner  joined.  Their  exami- 
nation showed  that  rapid  effusion  had  taken  place  into  the  pericardium. 

That  morning,  when  one  of  his  brothers  saw  him,  he  described  a 
dream  which  seemed  for  the  time  to  fill  him  with  happiness  : — "  I  have 
had  such  a  glorious  dream  !  I  thought  the  whole  Punjaub  was  sud- 
denly Christianised,  and  such  noble  fellows,  with  their  native  churches 
and  clergy." 


444  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

The  next  day  he  was  very  weak,  but  on  Saturday  the  doctors  found 
him  considerably  better.  The  birth  of  his  brother  Donald's  eldest  son, 
which  occurred  that  morning,  took  a  strange  hold  of  his  mind,  and 
when  the  father  called  for  him  lie  found  him  filled  with  solemn 
thoughts  suggested  by  the  gift  of  this  new  life.  He  was  seated 
in  a  stooping  position,  his  elbows  resting  on  his  knees,  to  relieve  the 
pain  in  his  chest,  and  while  he  spoke  his  eyes  overflowed  with  tears, 
as  with  broken  utterance  he  touched  on  what  had  always  been  a  con- 
genial  theme  : — "  Christ  spoke  of  the  joy  of  a  man-child  being  born  into 
the  world.  He  alone  could  measure  all  that  is  implied  in  the  beginning 
of  such  an  existence.  A  man  born  !  One  that  may  know  God  and  be 
with  Him  forever.  A  sou  of  God  like  Jesus  Christ — how  grand — how 
awfully  grand  !"  * 

That  evening  he  was  so  much  better  as  to  enjoy  music,  and  his 
daughters  played  and  sang  some  of  his  favourite  pieces, — the  "  Marche 
Funebre"  of  Beethoven,  with  a  part  of  the  Sonata  ;  Mozart's  "  Kyrie 
Eleison  ;"  "  Ach  wie  ist  es  inoglich  ! "  "  Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee."  He 
was  greatly  moved  by  Newman's  well-known  hymn,  "  Lead,  kindly 
light,"  which,  strange  to  say,  he  had  never  heard  sung  before.  Every 
word  seemed  so  appropriate  that  he  made  his  daughter  sit  beside  him 
that  he  might  hear  her  more  distinctly,  and  he  shook  his  head  and 
bowed  it  with  emphatic  acquiescence  at  different  passages,  especial^ 
at  the  lines, — 

"Keep  Thou  my  feet  :  I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene  :  one  step  enough  for  me." 

On  that  night,  as  well' as  on  the  previous  one,  his  brother  George  sat 
up  with  him.  On  the  Friday  night  he  had  suffered  extremely,  but  he 
Avas  now  slightly  better.  He  had  snatches  of  sleep,  often  rose  and 
walked  through  the  room,  sometimes  indulging  in  bits  of  fun,  and 
shaking  with  laughter  at  sallies  of  wit  which  were  evidently  intended 
to  relieve  his  brother's  anxiety.  Sometimes  his  mind  slightly  wandered. 
More  than  once  he  engaged  in  silent  prayer,  and  after  one  of  these  still 
moments  he  said,  "  I  have  been  praying  for  this  little  boy  of  Donald's 
— that  he  may  live  to  be  a  good  man,  and  by  God's  grace  be  a  minister 
in  the  Church  of  Christ — the  grandest  of  all  callings  !" 

He  described  with  great  delight  the  dreams  he  had  been  enjoying, 
or  rather  the  visions  which  seemed  to  be  passing  vividly  before  his  eyes 
even  while  he  was  speaking.  "  You  cannot  imagine  what  exquisite 
pictures  I  see.  I  never  beheld  more  glorious  Highlands,  majestic 
mountains  and  glens,  brown  heather  tinted  with  purple,  and  burns — 
clear,  clear  burns — and  above,  a  sky  of  intense  blue — so  blue,  without 
a  cloud !" 

He  spoke  of  an  unusual  number  of  friends,  and  remembering  that 
the  Queen  was  then  leaving  Balmoral  for  Windsor,  he  prayed  aloud 
for  her  and  her  children. 

*  The  same  newsp  iper  which  announced  the  birth  of  this  boy,  Norman,  contained  the 
news  of  his  uncle's  death. 


111S  DEATH.  4  T. 

Seeing  that  his  brother  was  anxious  that  lie  should  sleep,  he  said, 
"Tell  me  about  the  Crimea,  and  what  you  saw  there.  There  is  nothing 
I  like  so  much  as  stones  of  battles.  If  you  tell  me  what  you  saw 
you  will  soothe  me  to  sleep  like  a  child.  I  never  could  well  make  out 
the  position  of  the  Flagstaif  battery.  Now,  just  go  on  !"  Once,  during 
the  night,  he  asked  his  brother,  with  great  tenderness,  to  kiss  him  ; 
and  at  another  time,  when  awaking  from  sleep,  he  held  up  his  hands, 
as  if  pronouncing  the  benediction  in  church,  and  said  with  much 
solemnity,  "  May  the  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  love  of 
God,  and  the  Communion  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  be  with  you  all.  Amen." 
So  passed  his  last  night  on  earth,  troubled,  yet  peaceful,  and  full  of 
the  unselfishness  and  simplicity  of  his  life. 

On  the  morning  of  Sunday,  the  sixteenth  of  June,  he  was  so  much 
better  that  his  brother  left  him  in  comparative  comfort,  and  when 
Professor  Andrew  Buchanan  saw  him  some  hours  afterwards,  he  was 
surprised  at  the  great  improvement  which  had  taken  place.     He  felt 
so  refreshed  after  taking  some  food,  about  seven  in  the  morning,  that 
he  asked  his  wife  to  sit  beside  him  while  he  told  her  the  deeper 
thoughts  that  were  possessing  his  soul.     "  I  believe  I  will  get  better," 
he  said,  "  but  I  wish  you  to  record  for  my  good  and  for  our  good 
afterwards,  that  in  this  hurricane  I  have  had  deep  thoughts  of  God. 
I  feel  as  if  He  said,  '  We  know  one  another,  I  love  you,  I  forgive 
you  ;  I  put  my  hands  round  you,'  just  as  I  would  with  my  son  Nor- 
aaan,"  and  here  he  laid  his  own  hand  tenderly  on  his  wife's  head.     "  I 
have  had  few  religious  exercises  for  the  last  ten  days.     If  my  son  were 
ill  I  would  not  be  angry  with  him  for  not  sending  me  a  letter.     But  I 
have  had  constant  joy,  and  the  happy  thought  continually  whispered, 
'  Thou  art  with  me  !'    Not  many  would  understand  me.     They  would 
put  down  much  that  I  have  felt  to  the  delirium  of  weakness,  but  I 
have  had  deep  spiritual  insight."     When  he  wras  speaking  of  God's 
dealings,  the  expression  of  his  face  and  his  accents  were  as  if  he  was 
addressing  one  actually  present.     Still  more  intimately,  it  seemed, 
than  ever,  his  fellowship  wras  with  the  Father  and  the  Son.    He  again 
repeated  that  he  believed  he  would  get  better,  and  that  his  latter  days 
would  be  more  useful  than  any  former  ones.     "  I  have  neglected  many 
tilings.     I  have  not  felt  as  I  ought  how  awfully  good  God  is ;  how- 
generous  and  long-suffering ;  how  He  has  'put  up' with  all  my  rub- 
bish.    It  is  enough  to  crush  me  when  I  think  of  all  His  mercies"  (as 
he  said  this  he  was  melted  in  tears),  "  mercy,  mercy,  from  beginning  to 
end.     You  and  I  have  passed  through  many  life-storms,  but  we  can 
say  wTith  peace,  it  has  been  all  right."     He  added  something  she  could 
not  follow  as  to  what  he  would  wish  to  do  in  his  latter  days,  and  as  to 
how  he  "  would  teach  his  darling  children  to  know  and  realise  God's 
presence."     He  told  her  once  more  to  write  down  all  he  had  said,  that 
it  might  do  her  good  wheu  her  own  day  of  sorrow  came.     He  fre- 
quently said  that  this  visitation  wras  quite  unexpected. 

Some  hours  afterwards  two  of  his  daughters  came  to  kiss  him  before 


446  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD 

going  to  church.  "  He  took  my  hands  in  both  of  his,"  one  of  them 
writes,  "and  told  me  I  must  come  to  see  him  oftener.  'If  I  had 
strength/  he  said,  'I  could  tell  you  things  that  would  do  you  gum  1 
through  all  your  life.  I  am  an  old  man,  and  have  passed  through  many 
experiences,  hut  now  all  is  perfect  peace  and  perfect  calm.  I  have 
glimpses  of  Heaven  that  no  tongue,  or  pen,  or  words  can  describe.'  I 
kissed  him  on  his  dear  forehead  and  wrent  away,  crying  only  because 
he  was  so  ill.  When  I  next  saw  him  he  was  indeed  '  in  perfect  peace 
and  perfect  calm.' " 

The  church  bells  had  for  some  time  ceased  to  ring,  and  the  quiet  of 
the  Lord's-day  rested  on  the  city.  His  wife  and  one  of  his  sons  wTere 
with  him  in  the  drawing-room,  where  he  remained  chiefly  sitting  on  the 
sofa.  About  twelve  o'clock  Mrs.  Macleod  went  to  the  door  to  give 
some  directions  about  food.  The  sudden  cry,  "Mother,  mother!'' 
startled  her,  and  when  she  hurried  in  she  saw  his  head  had  fallen  back. 
There  was  a  soft  sigh,  and,  gently  as  one  sinking  into  sleep,  his  spirit 
entered  the  eternal  rest. 


CHAPTER     XXV. 

TI3  ;  .L. 

iC  "flJ'AD  I  a  wish  on  so  solemn  a  subject,  I  would  be  disposed  to 
JUL  choose  a  sudden  death."  So  had  he  written  some  years 
before ;  and  those  who  knew  and  loved  him  best,  when  their  grief  was 
so  far  assuaged  as  to  allow  them  to  judge  calmly,  thanked  God  for  the 
time  and  manner  in  which  it  pleased  Him  to  take  His  servant  to 
Himself.  His  death  came  when  his  work  was  in  a  sense  complete. 
He  had  all  but  accomplished  his  plans  for  meeting  the  spiritual  necessi- 
ties of  his  great  parish*  He  had  borne  his  last  mature  testimony  on 
behalf  of  India ;  and  his  work  in  the  Church  and  in  the  country  had, 
in  many  ways,  reached  its  fulness.  Had  it  pleased  God  so  to  order  it, 
he  would  doubtless  have  meekly  accepted  the  burden  of  an  enfeebled 
old  age  spent  in  retirement,  or,  by  divine  grace,  wrould  have  patiently 
endured  protracted  suffering,  and  watched  with  fortitude  the  slow 
approach  of  certain  death.  But  neither  of  these  experiences — both  so 
trying  to  a  temperament  like  his — was  allotted  to  him.  His  active 
nature  did  not  survive  its  usefulness  ;  and  instead  of  being  kept  under 
what,  to  his  vivid  imagination,  might  have  been  the  appalling  conscious- 
ness of  life  slowly  ebbing  away,  his  spirit  passed,  without  a  struggle, 
into  that  Presence  in  which  his  thoughts  and  affections  had  long  made 
themselves  a  beloved  abode. 

The  news  of  his  death  passed  with  extraordinary  speed  through  the 
kingdom,  and  everywhere  produced  a  profound  impression.  No  man, 
since  Chalmers,  was  so  much  mourned  in  Scotland.  People  who  had 
never  exchanged  a  word  with  him  felt  and  spoke  as  if  a  personal  friend 
had  been  taken  away,  and  those  who  had  deemed  it  their  duty  some- 
times to  oppose  him  even  with  bitterness,  were  the  foremost  to  pay 
honour  to  the  rich  humanity  and  religious  nobleness,  which  had  raised 
him  above  the  influence  of  all  party  strife. 

A  vague  rumour  of  his  death  having  reached  the  Queen  she  at  once 
telegraphed  for  information,  and  with  that  ready  sympathy  which  has 
so  endeared  her  to  the  nation,  she  addressed  the  following  letter  to  his 
brother : — ■ 

*  What  remained  to  be  done  was  rapidly  executed  after  his  death.  Three  of  the  Mis- 
sion Chapels  were  endowed  as  parishes  by  three  of  his  friends — Kelvinhaugh  and  Blue- 
vale  (Ihe  first  and  the  last  he  built)  being  severally  endowed  by  Mr.  Whit  daw  and 
Mr.  James  Baird,  and  his  own  Mission  Church  erected  into  what  is  now  called  "Ihe 
Macleod  Parish,"  by  Mr.  J.  H.  Houldsworth.  The  congregation  of  the  Bat ony  com- 
pleted in  like  manner  the  remaining  parochial  appliances  which  he  had  projected,  ami 
built  a  Memorial  Missionary  Institute  in  a  destitute  part  of  the  parish. 


-*4S  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"Balmoral,  June  17th,  1872. 

"  The  Queen  hardly  knows  how  to  begin  a  letter  to  Mr.  Donald  Macleod,  so 
deep  and  strong  are  her  feelings  on  this  most  sad  and  most  painful  occasion 
— for  words  are  all  too  weak  to  say  what  she  feels,  and  what  all  must  feel 
who  ever  knew  his  beloved,  excellent,  and  highly  gifted  brother,  Dr.  Norman 
Macleod ! 

"  First  of  all,  to  his  family — his  venerable,  loved,  and  honoured  mother, 
his  wife  and  large  family  of  children — the  loss  of  this  good  man  is  irreparable 
and  overwhelming  !  But  it  is  an  irreparable  public  loss,  and  the  Queen 
feels  this  deeply.  To  herself  personally,  the  loss  of  dear  Dr.  Macleod  is  a 
very  great  one;  he  was  so  kind,  and  on  all  occasions  showed  her  such  warm 
sympathy,  and  in  the  early  days  of  her  great  sorrow,  gave  the  Queen  so 
much  comfort  whenever  she  saw  him,  that  she  always  looked  forwai'd  eagerly 
to  those  occasions  when  she  saw  him  here  ;  and  she  cannot  realise  the  idea 
that  in  this  world  she  is  never  to  see  his  kind  face,  and  listen  to  these  ad- 
mirable discourses  which  did  every  one  good,  and  to  his  charming -conver- 
sation again '. 

"The  Queen  is  gratified  that  she  was  able  to  see  him  this  last  time,  and 
to  have  some  lengthened  conversation  with  him,  when  he  dwelt  much  on 
that  future  world  to  which  he  now  belongs.  He  was  sadly  depressed  and 
suffering,  but  still  so  near  a  termination  of  his  career  of  intense  usefulness 
and  loving-kindness,  never  struck  her  or  any  of  us  as  likely,  and  the  Queen 
was  terribly  shocked  on  learning  the  sad,  sad  news.  All  her  children, 
present  and  absent,  deeply  mourn  his  loss.  The  Queen  would  be  very 
grateful  for  all  the  details  which  Mr.  D.  Macleod  can  give  her  of  the  last 
moments  and  illness  of  her  dear  friend. 

"Pray,  say  everything  kind  and  sympathising  to  his  venerable  mother, 
to  Mrs.  N.  Macleod,  and  all  the  family;  and  she  asks  him  to  accept  himself 
of  her  true  heart-felt  sympathy." 

Among  many  valued  tributes  of  respect  paid  to  his  memory,  but 
which  it  would  be  superfluous  to  mention  here  in  detail,*  there  was 
one  that,  for  many  reasons,  has  a  peculiar  interest. 

*  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  the  touching  allusions  made  on  the  Sunday  after 
his  burial  in  so  many  of  the  pulpits  of  all  churches  in  the  kingdom  ;  and  of  these  there 
were  none  truer  or  more  beautiful  than  those  spoken  in  the  Barony  by  Dr.  Watson  of 
Dundee,  and  Dr.  Taylor  of  Crathie.  Many  kind  notices  of  his  life  appeared  at  the 
time  in  the  Press,  among  which  was  an  exquisite  sketch  of  his  career  and  character, 
contributed  to  the  Time-shy  Dean  Stanley  ;  and  similarly  affectionate  and  appreciative 
papers  were  written  by  Dr.  Walter  Smith  in  Good  Words,  and  by  Mr.  Strahan  in  the 
Contemporary.  Addresses  of  condolence  were  sent  to  his  family  from  such  public 
bin  lies  as  the  Presbytery  of  Glasgow,  the  India  Mission,  the  Barony  Kirk  Session,  the 
Barony  Sabbath  School  Association,  the  Bible  Society,  the  Sunday  School  Society  of 
Stockport,  the  Scottish  Amicable  Insurance  Society,  of  which  he  was  a  director,  the 
Sons  of  the  Clergy,  and  several  others.  A  tablet  to  his  memory  has  been  put  up  in  the 
Paiish  Church  of  Loudoun,  where  his  early  labours  are  still  cherished  in  the  affectionate 
memory  of  the  people,  and  a  statue  is  about  to  be  erected  in  Glasgow.  At  Crathie,  two 
stained  windows  have  been  plated  in  the  Church  by  Her  Majesty — the  one  bearing  a 
figure  of  King  David,  and  the  other  one  of  St.  Paul — representing  the  gilts  of  poetry 
and  missionary  zeal.  On  the  former  there  is  inscribed:  —  "In  Memory  of  the  Rev. 
Norman  Macleod,  D.D.,  Dean  of  the  Most  Noble  and  Most  Ancient  Order  of  the 
Thistle,  Dean  of  the  Chapel  R>.yal,  and  one  of  Her  Majesty's  Chaplains,  a  man  eminent 
in  the  Church,  honoured  in  the  State,   and  in  many  lands  greatly  beloved  ;"   on  tho 


THE  FUNERAL.  44!) 

The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  with  characteristic  catholicity  of 
spirit,  thus  addressed  the  Moderator  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  : — 

*  Lambeth  Palace,  London,  June  ldth,  1873. 
'■  My  dear  Moderator, 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  express  to  you  officially  the  deep  feeling 
of  sorrow  with  which  I  have  heard  of  the  loss  that  has  befallen  the  Estab- 
lished Church  of  Scotland  by  the  death  of  Dr.  Norman  Macleodl  He  was 
so  widely  known  in  England  as  well  as  in  Scotland,  and,  indeed,  whei'ever 
our  mother  tongue  is  spoken,  that  his  death  seems  a  national  loss.  So  zeal- 
ous, large-hearted,  and  gifted  a  pastor  could  ill  be  spared  at  any  time  to  the 
Christian  Church.  While  his  own  people  lament  that  they  no  longer  hear 
his  familiar  voice,  winning  them  by  his  wise-spoken  counsels,  his  written 
words  will  be  missed  in  thousands  of  homes  in  every  quarter  of  the  world ; 
and  the  Established  Church,  over  which  you  preside,  will  deeply  feel  the 
removal  of  one  who  held  so  high  a  place  amongst  its  wisest  and  most  strenu- 
ous defenders. 

"  Believe  me  to  be,  my  dear  Moderator, 

';  Your  faithful  servant, 

"A.  C.  Cantaur." 

It  is  unfortunately  so  seldom  the  representatives  of  the  National 
Churches  of  England  and  Scotland  exchange  official  communications, 
that  this  letter  becomes  the  more  remarkable  as  indicating  at  once  the 
wide  influence  exercised  by  Dr.  Macleod,  and  the  reality  of  that  unity 
in  virtue  of  which,  if  one  branch  of  the  Church  suffers,  the  whole 
Church  suffers  with  it. 

His  funeral  took  place  on  Thursday,  the  20th,  and  was  celebrated 
with  a  solemnity  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  the  city  with  which  his 
labours  were  so  long  associated. 

The  day  was  of  heavenly  beauty,  seeming  the  more  beautiful  that  it 
had  been  preceded  and  was  followed  by  days  of  storm.  There  was  a 
private  service  at  his  own  house,  for  the  members  of  his  family,  at 
which  his  friend  Dr.  Watson  officiated,  and  from  his  house  to  the 
Barony  church,  where  his  remains  were  first  borne,  the  streets  were 
lined  writh  an  observant  multitude.  The  Barony  church  was  filled  with 
the  members  of  his  own  congregation,  and  of  his  Mission  churches,  and 
the  venerable  Cathedral  seemed  doubly  solemn  from  the  reverent 
throng  of  mourning  friends  and  representatives  of  public  bodies 
gathered  there  to  do  honour  to  the  dead. 

Among  those  present  were  Dr.  Robertson,  Queen's  commissioner, 
sent  by  Her  Majesty  to  represent  Herself  and  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and 
the  Hon.  E.  C.  Yorke,  who  acted  in  a  similar  capacity  for  the  Duke  of 
Edinburgh. 

other,  the  text — "They  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament  ; 
and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness  as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever." — Dan.  xii.  3. 
Several  months  after  his  death,  his  family  were  surprised  and  gratified  by  finding  the 
competency  he  had  provided  for  them  largely  increased  by  those  who  had  loved  him  ; 
•in  J  this  was  done  in  a  manner  so  delicate,  as  to  make  the  mention  of  it  here  a  privilege. 

29 


450  LIFE  OF  NORM  AX  MACLEOD. 

The  service  in  the  Barony  was  conducted  by  Dr.  Burns,  the  minister 
of  the  Cathedral  and  by  Dr.  "Walter  C.  Smith,  of  the  Tree  Church, 
while  Professor  Eadie,  of  the  United  Presbyterian  Church,  and  Dr. 
Smith,  of  North  Leith,  officiated  in  the  Cathedral. 

When  the  solemn  services  were  concluded,  the  cortege  was  accom- 
panied to  the  outskirts  of  the  city  by  the  magistrates  of  Glasgow,  the 
sheriffs,  the  representatives  of  Royalty,  the  senate  of  the  University, 
and  by  other  public  functionaries  in  their  official  robes ;  by  clergymen 
of  all  Churches,  gathered  from  many  districts  of  the  country,  and  by 
the  members  of  various  religious  and  other  societies  with  which  he 
had  been  connected.  These  preceded  the  hearse,  and  behind  it  and 
the  mourning  relatives  there  followed  a  long  line  of  nearly  three  thou- 
sand persons  of  all  classes  of  the  community.  This  demonstration  of 
respect  was  the  more  gratifying  that  it  was  entirely  spontaneous.  As 
the  great  procession  moved  on  to  the  sad  music  of  the  "Dead  March," 
it  was  watched  along  the  whole  route  by  a  vast  multitude,  occupying 
every  available  position  from  which  a  view  could  be  obtained,  and 
showing  by  their  saddened  aspect  how  deeply  the  hearts  of  the  people 
had  been  touched.  One  of  the  most  remarkable  features  in  that  crowd 
was  the  large  proportion  of  workmen  and  of  the  poor,  who  came  to 
pay  honour  to  the  memory  of  him  who  had  laboured  so  earnestly  for 
their  good.  More  than  one  touching  testimony  was  audibly  expressed 
by  these  onlookers  to  the  benefit  they  had  received  from  him.  "There 
goes  Norman  Macleod,"  a  brawny  working  man  was  heard  saying,  as 
the  dark  column  moved  past ;  "  if  he  had  done  no  more  than  what  he 
did  for  my  soul,  he  would  shine  as  the  stars  for  ever." 

As  the  funeral  approached  (Jampsie,  it  was  not  only  met  by  many 
friends,  but  as  business  had  been  for  the  time  suspended  in  the  town, 
and  the  shops  closed,  the  entire  population  united  in  paying  respect  to 
the  honoured  dead,  whose  ashes  were  to  rest  in  the  old  parish  where 
his  early  life  had  been  spent 

He  was  laid  beside  his  father,  and  as  the  grave  which  was  prepared 
for  him  was  discovered,  unexpectedly,  to  be  that  of  James,  the  two 
brothers,  whose  lives  had  been  linked  by  the  holiest  of  all  ties,  were 
thus  united  in  their  last  resting-place. 

Ere  the  coffin  was  lowered,  three  wreaths  of  Immortelles  were  placed 
upon  it.  The  first  bore  the  inscription,  "A  token  of  respect  and 
friendship  from  Queen  Victoria;"  the  second,  "A  token  of  respect 
from  Prince  Leopold,"  and  the  third,  "  A  token  of  respect  from  Prin- 
cess Beatrice." 

The  spot  where  he  sleeps  is  a  suggestive  emblem  of  his  life.  On 
the  one  side  are  the  hum  of  business  and  the  houses  of  toiling  human- 
ity. On  the  other,  green  pastoral  hills,  and  the  silence  of  Highland 
solitudes.  More  than  one  eye  rested  that  day  on  the  sunny  slope  where 
he  had  so  lately  dreamt  of  building  a  home  for  his  old  age — more  than 
one  heart  thanked  God  for  the  more  glorious  mansion  into  which  he 
had  entered. 


APPENDIX. 


A. 

In  a  series  of  autobiographical  reminiscences  wliich  he  dictated  in  old  age 
to  one  of  his  daughters,  Dr.  Macleod's  father  gives,  among  others,  the  fol- 
lowing amusing  and  characteristic  pictures  of  his  youth  : — 

"I  received  the  rudiments  of  my  education  in  the  Manse  of  Fiunary  from  tutors  who 
were  hired  by  my  father  from  time  to  time ;  but  we  were  often  for  months  without  any 
instruction,  except  the  little  we  could  receive  from  himself  when  his  time,  which  was 
very  much  occupied  with  parish  matters,  could  permit.  He  generally  spent  three  or  four 
clays  of  the  week  on  horseback,  and  always  came  home  much  fatigued;  but  he  usually 
contrived  to  give  my  elder  brother  and  me  a  lesson.  He  seldom  shaved  above  twice  in 
the  week,  except  something  extraordinary  came  in  the  way,  and  it  was  during  the  pro- 
cess of  shaving,  which  generally  exceeded  an  hour,  that  we  were  drilled  in  our  Latin 
lessons.  He  was  an  admirable  Latin  scholar,  and  had  a  great  portion  of  the  Latin 
classics — Horace,  Virgil,  and  Ovid — committed  to  memory.  He  was  very  partial  to 
Buchanan's  Latin  Psalms,  a  portion  of  which  we  generally  read  on  Sabbhath  morning. 
My  father  was  unfortunate  in  most  of  his  tutors;  one  of  them,  a  monster  in  temper, 
came  to  us  from  Aberdeen.  I  shudder  at  the  recollection  of  his  cruelly.  My  brother 
Donald,  one  of  the  most  amiable  and  interesting  fellows  that  ever  lived,  was  an  excellent 
scholar  and  superior  to  his  tutor,  who,  I  suppose  on  that  account,  formed  a  fearful  pre- 
judice against  him,  and  chastised  him  unmercifully,  and  often  without  cause,  and  that 
in  remote  places  where  there  was  no  one  to  witness  his  conduct.  His  savage  treatment 
of  this  dear  lad  brought  on  a  spitting  of  blood,  from  which  he  never  recovered.  I  was 
not  a  good  scholar,  and  was  much  more  given  to  play  than  to  stud)'-,  yet  I  received  my 
lull  share  of  flogging !  This  cruel  man  had  a  wonderful  power  over  us,  and  took  solemn 
promises  from  us  that  we  should  not  tell  our  parents  of  his  conduct.  A  singular  circum- 
stance, which  deeply  impressed  me  at  the  time  and  which  I  cannot  forge*-,  brought  his 
conduct  to  light,  and  caused  his  dismissal  from  my  father's  family.  He  asked  us  to 
accompany  him  upon  a  Saturday  to  the  house  of  Killundine,  where  one  of  his  pupils 
then  lived,  and  who  is  almost  the  only  one  of  my  early  companions  still  alive.  We  went 
to  Killundine,  by  the  shore,  on  the  line  where  the  new  public  road  now  runs.  I  was 
dressed  in  a  kilt,  but  had  no  hose  or  stockings  on.  We  came  to  the  cave  below  Lag- 
gan,  known  by  the  name  of  'The  Dripping  Cave,'  which  could  not  be  entered  but  through 
a  wild  jungle  of  briars,  thorns,  and  nettles.  It  was  said  that  this  cave  was  the  abode  of 
some  wild  man  of  the  wood,  and  that  he  had  lately  been  seen  at  the  entrance  of  it.  I 
admitted  to  my  tutor  that  I  believed  this  story ;  on  which  he  ordered  me  to  pass  through 
this  thicket  and  enter  the  cave,  in  order,  as  he  said,  to  disabuse  my  mind  of  such  a 
belief  in  the  superstitions  of  the  country.  I  remonstrated  as  to  my  inability  to  do  so  in 
the  dress  which  I  then  wore  ;  but  he  cut  a  rod  in  the  wood,  with  which  he  compelled  me 
to  proceed.  I  did  so,  while  all  my  feet  and  legs  were  torn  and  bleeding  from  the  effects 
of  the  thorns.  On  reaching  the  entrance  of  the  cave,  what  was  my  horror  on  observing 
the  figure  of  a  tall,  old,  grey-headed  man  rising  from  his  bed  of  straw  with  a  scarlet 
night-cap  on  !  But  he,  hearing  my  cries  and  sobs,  addressed  me  in  the  kindest  manner — 
naming  me,  for  he  recognised  me  at  once.  This  dispelled  my  fear,  and  I  resolved  to  abide 
with  him  in  the  cave  rather  than  return  to  my  companion.  I  told  him  all  that  had  hap- 
pened to  me.  He  roared  after  the  tutor,  and  vowed  vengeance  against  him.  He  informed 
me  that  the  tutor  had  taken  to  his  heels  in  the  direction  of  the  Manse.  The  good  old 
man  Luniid  me  in  his  arms  out  of  the  brushwood,  and  insisted  that  I  should  go  on  to 


*52  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

Killundine,  accompanying  me  himself  a  great  part  of  the  way.  This  venerable  man  had 
been  unfortunate  in  his  money  transactions  as  a  cattle  dealer,  and  was  concealing  himself 
for  some  time,  till  an  arrangement  should  be  made  with  his  creditors.  I  reached  the 
house  of  Killundine  in  a  sorrowful  plight,  where  the  thorns  were  extracted  froni  my 
limbs,  and  where  I  remained  for  the  night.  Thus  were  the  cruelties  of  our  tutor  brought 
to  light,  his  conduct  to  my  brother  became  known,  and  he  was  dismissed.  The  only 
apology  that  can  be  found  for  him  was,  that  he  was  labouring  under  mental  disease; 
he  died  soon  after  in  the  lunatic  asylum.  My  father  continued  to  give  me  lessons  when 
his  time  admitted  of  it  (especially  during  shaving  times).  He  followed  a  practice,  which 
I  at  the  time  abhorred,  of  making  me  translate  the  classics  into  Gaelic.  He  himself  had 
an  exquisite  taste  in  the  selection  of  vocables,  and  thus  I  became  a  good  Gaelic  scholar. 
"  In  the  summer  of  1799  the  late  General  Norman  Macleod  (grandfather  to  the  present 
chief)  came  to  the  Manse  of  Morven,  on  his  way  to  the  Isle  of  Skye.  _  My  father  had 
been  for  some  time  tutor  to  this  brave  and  talented  man,  who  was  a  distinguished  soldier 
in  the  American  War,  and  obtained  great  renown  afterwards  in  India  during  the  con- 
flicts with  Tippoo  Sahib  and  other  chiefs.  He  was  frequently  and  severely  wounded. 
Macleod  insisted  that  my  father  should  allow  me  to  go  along  with  him  to  Dunvegan  ;  and 
I  was  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  visiting  the  place  of  which  I  had  heard  so  many 
traditionary  legends.  There  were  no  steamers  at  that  time,  and  we  took  our  passage  in  a 
small  wherry  from  Oban. 

"  Macleod  was  accompanied  by  Mr.  Hector  MacJlonald  Buchanan,  his  man  of  business, 
and  Mr.  Campbell  of  Combie,  his  commissioner.  We  arrived  at  Loch  Bracadale  next 
day  after  leaving  Morven,  where  we  found  horses  and  carts,  with  crowds  of  people  wait- 
ing our  arival ;  we  reached  the  old  Castle  of  Dunvegan,  where  many  of  the  gentlemen 
tacksmen  of  the  Macleod  estates  were  waiting  to  receive  us.  Macleod  was  welcomed  to 
the  castle  of  his  fathers  by  Captain  Donald  MacCrimmon,  the  representative  of  the 
celebrated  'MacCrimmon  pipers,'  who  had  for  ages  been  connected  with  the  family. 
This  Captain  MacCrimmon  had  acquired  his  commission,  and  no  small  share  of  renown, 
with  his  chief,  during  the  American  War. 

"  I  can  never  forget  the  impression  which  the  who'.e  scene  made  upon  my  youthful 
mind  as  MacCrimmon  struck  up  '  Failte  lluairi  Mlioir,'  the  favourite  tune  of  the  clan. 
Dinner  was  laid  in  the  great  dining-room  ;  the  keys  of  the  cellar  were  procured,  and  a 
pipe  of  claret  was  broached,  and  also  a  cask  of  Madeira  wine  of  choice  quality,  brought 
from  India  by  Macleod ;  the  wine  was  carried  up  in  flagons  to  the  dining-room,  and 
certainly  they  were  very  amply  use  1  in  the  course  of  the  evening.  A  bed  was  provided 
for  me  in  a  small  closet  otf  Macleod's  room,  and  I  can  never  forget  the  affectionate  kind- 
ness which  my  greatly  beloved  chief  showed  me  while  for  three  months  I  remained  in 
his  castle.  The  number  of  visitors  who  came  there  was  great — Maclean  of  Coll,  Grant 
of  Corrymony,  Mr.  Grant,  the  father  of  Lord  Glenelg,  Principal  Macleod,  of  Aberdeen, 
Colonel  Donald  Macleod,  father  to  the  present  St.  Kilda,  were,  with  many  others,  among 
the  guests.  I  formed  a  special  regard  for  Major  Macleod  of  Bailymeanach,  who  had 
been  a  distinguished  officer  in  the  Dutch  wars,  and  who  kindly  entertained  me  with 
many  interesting  anecdotes  regarding  the  warfare  in  which  he  had  been  engaged. 

"  One  circumstance  took  place  at  the  castle  on  this  occasion  which  I  think  worth 
recording,  especially  as  I  am  the.  only  person  now  living  who  can  attest  the  truth  of  it. 
There  had  been  a  traditionary  prophecy,  couched  in  Gaelic  verse,  regarding  the  family 
of  Macleod,  which,  on  this  occasion,  received  a  most  extraordinary  fulfilment.  This 
prophecy  I  have  heard  repeated  by  several  persons,  and  most  deeply  do  I  regret  that  I 
did  not  taks  a  copy  of  it  when  I  could  have  got  it.  The  worthy  Mr.  Campbell  of  Knock, 
in  Mull,  had  a  very  beautiful  version  of  it,  as  also  had  my  father,  and  so,  I  think,  had 
likewise  Dr.  Campbell  of  Killninver.  Such  prophecies  were  current  regarding  almost 
all  old  families  in  the  Highlands.  ;  the  Argyll  family  were  of  the  number  ;  and  there  is 
a  prophecy  regarding  the  Breadalbane  family  as  yet  unfulfilled,  which  I  hope  my  remain 
so.  The  present  Marquis  of  Breadalbane  is  fully  aware  of  it,  as  are  many  of  the  con- 
nections of  the  family.  Of  the  Macleod  family  it  was  prophesied  at  least  a  hundred 
years  prior  to  the  circumstance  which  I  am  about  to  relate. 

"  In  the  prophecy  to  which  I  allude  it  was  foretold,  that  when  Norman,  the  third 
Norman  ( '  Tormaid  nan'  tri  Tormaid  '),  the  son  of  the  hard-boned  English  lady  ( '  Mac  na 
mnatha  Caoile  cruaidh  Shassanaich  '),  would  perish  by  an  accidental  death  ;  that  when 
the  '  Maidens '  of  Macleod  (certain  well-known  rocks  on  the  coast  of  Macleod's  country) 
became  the  property  of  a  Campbell  ;  when  a  fox  had  young  ones  in  one  of  the  turrets 
of  the  Castle,  and,  particularly,   when  the  Fairy-enchanted  banner  should  be  for  the 


APPENDIX.  453 

Inst  time  exhibited,  then  the  glory  of  the  Maeleod  family  should  depart — a  great  part  of 
the  estate  should  be  Bold  to  others,  so  that  a  small  'curragh,'  or  boa%  would  carry  all 
•  li'inen  of  the  name  of  Maeleod  across  Loch  Dunvegan  ;  but  that  in  times  far  distant 
another  John  Breac  shouM  arise,  who  should  redeem  those  estates,  and  raise  the  powers 
and  honour  of  the  house  to  a  higher  pitch  than  ever.  Such  in  general  terms  was  the 
prophecy.  And  now  as  to  the  curious  coincidence  of  its  fulfilment.  There  was,  at  that 
time  at  Dunvegan,  an  English  smith,  with  whom  I  became  a  favourite,  ami  who  told  me, 
in  solemn  secrecy,  that  the  iron  chest  which  contained  the  '  fairy  Hag  '  was  to  be  forced 
open  next  morning  ;  that  he  had  arranged  with  Mr.  Hector  Macdonald  Buchanan  to  be 
t lure  with  his  tools  for  that  purpose. 

"I  was  most  anxious  to  be  present,  and  I  asked  permission  to  that  effect  of  Mr. 
Buchanan,  who  granted  me  leave  on  condition  that  I  should  not  inform  any  one  of  the 
name  of  Maeleod  that  such  was  intended,  and  should  keep  it  a  profound  secret  from  the 
chief.  This  I  promised,  and  most  faithfully  acted  on.  Next  morning  we  proceeded  to 
1  be  chamber  to  the  East  Turret,  where  was  the  iron  chest  that  contained  the  famous  flag, 
about  which  there  is  an  interesting  tradition. 

"  With  great  violence  the  smith  tore  open  the  lid  of  this  iron  chest  ;  bnt  in  doing  so  a 
key  was  found,  under  part  of  the  covering,  which  would  have  opened  the  chest,  had  it 
been  found  in  time.  There  was  an  inner  case,  in  which  was  found  the  flag,  enclosed  in 
u  wooden  box  of  strongly  scented  wood.  The  flag  consisted  of  a  square  piece  of  very 
rich  silk,  with  crosses  wrought  with  gold  thread,  and  several  elf-spots  stitched  with  great 
■  are  on  different  parts  of  it. 

"  On  this  occasion,  the  melancholy  news  of  the  death  of  the  young  and  promising  heir 
of  Maeleod,  reached  the  castle.  'Norman,  the  third  Norman,'  was  a  lieutenant  of 
II. M.S.  the  Queen  Charlotte,  which  was  blown  up  at  sea,  and  he  and  the  rest  perished. 
At  the  same  time  the  rocks  called  'Macleod's  Maidens'  were  sold,  in  the  course  of  that 
very  week,  to  Angus  Campbell  of  Ensay,  and  they  are  still  in  possession  of  his  grandson. 
A  fox  in  possession  of  a  Lieutenant  Maclean,  residing  in  the  West  Turret  of  the  Castle, 
hail  young  ones,  which  I  handled,  and  thus  all  that  was  said  in  the  prophecy  alluded  to 
was  so  far  fulfilled,  although  I  am  glad  the  family  of  my  chief  still  enjoy  their  ancestral 
possessions,  and  the  worst  part  of  the  prophecy  accordingly  remains  unverified.  I  merely 
state  the  facts  of  the  case  as  they  occurred,  without  expressing  any  opinion  whatever  as 
to  the  nature  of  these  traditionary  legends  with  which  they  were  connected. " 

He  also  gives  an  account  in  these  reminiscences  of  some  of  his  expe- 
riences while  endeavouring  to  establish  schools  in  destitute  places  in  the 
lie brides : — 

"In  the  spring  of  1S24  a  contention,  carried  on  with  great  party  warmth,  took  place 
among  the  leading  men  in  Edinburgh,  about  the  election  of  Moderator  to  the  ensuing 
General  Assembly.  When  Principal  Baird,  Dr.  Inglis,  and  others  (the  leaders  of  the 
Moderate  party  in  the  Church)  applied  to  me  for  my  support  and  influence,  I  replied  that 
I  could  on  no  account  support  them  as  a  part}7,  for  they  had  never  given  me  any  support 
in  matters  connected  with  the  Highlands,  which  I  had  repeatedly  brought  under  their 
notice,  and  they  had  declined  in  an  especial  manner  to  assist  the  efforts  which  were  then 
being  made  to  obtain  a  quarto  edition  of  the  Gaelic  Scriptures,  although  it  had  been  re- 
peatedly brought  under  their  notice  ;  arid  that,  after  explaining  to  them  the  grievance 
of  having  only  a  Bible  of  so  small  a  text  as  a  12mo  edition,  which  no  one  advanced  in 
life  could  read,  I  received  for  answer  from  the  leader  of  that  party  (on  whom  I  thought  I 
had  made  some  impression  as  he  walked  in  his  drawing-room  before  breakfast)  :  '  That 
is  the  breakfast  bell ;  just  advise  your  Highland  friends  to  get  spectacles.' 

"  The  subject  came  under  discussion  again  that  day,  and  it  ended  by  the  Society  for 
Promoting  Christian  Knowledge  most  generously  coming  forward  and  offeiing  to  give  us 
the  long  wished  for  Quarto  Volume,  to  our  great  joy,  and  somewhat  the  annoyance  of 
our  opponents. 

"Dr.  Stewart  of  Luss  was  appointed  Convener  of  the  Committee  chosen  to  carry  out  the 
resolution,  and  no  better  man  for  the  purpose  could  be  found  in  the  Church.  I  and 
several  others  were  associated  with  him  in  the  work,  and  I  did  my  best  to  aid  him  ;  but 
to  him  belongs  the  praise  for  the  perfect  manner  with  which  it  was  executed. 

"It  was  during  the  sittings  of  this  Assembly  that  I  resisted  all  the  applications  made  to 
me  by  Principal  Baird  to  throw  in  whatever  little  influence  I  possessed  in  support  of  the 


454  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

Moderate  interests,  unless  he  and  his  party  would  aid  us  in  promoting  the  education  of 
the  people  in  the  Highlands  and  Islands,  where  a  melancholy  destitution  of  the  means  of 
education  prevailed. 

"  We  got  up  a  public  supper,  at  which  all  the  members,  lay  and  clerical,  from  the 
Highlands,  were  present.  Wo  drew  up  air  address  to  the  Principal  and  his  friends, 
in  which  they  were  requested  to  institute  a  scheme  for  the  promotion  of  education  in  the 
Highlands  and  Isles. 

"As  several  overtures  to  that  effect  had  been  forwarded  to  the  Assembly,  and  would  be 
discussed  in  the  course  of  the  following  week,  when  Dr.  Inglis  was  to  bring  forward  his 
motion  in  reference  to  the  India  Scheme,  the  worthy  Principal  instantly  consented  to  be 
chairman  in  an  Educational  Scheme  for  the  Highlands  and  Islands,  but  with  this  condi- 
tion, that  he  should  not  be  asked  to  speak  in  the  General  Assembly.  As  I  was  in  pos- 
session of  all  the  facts  connected  with  educational  destitution  in  the  Highlands,  he  put 
into  my  hands  the  "Educational  Statistics"  by  Lord  Brougham,  which  were  voluminous 
and  valuable. 

"I  at  once  agreed  to  the  request  made  me  by  the  Principal  andseveral  of  my  Highland 
friends,  that  I  should  bring  this  matter  under  the  notice  of  the  General  Assembly.  I 
locked  myself  up  for  several  days,  and  with  great  care  prepared  the  speech  I  was  about  to 
deliver  before  the  General  Assembly  on  this  important  subject.  When  the  day  fixed  for 
the  discussion  arrived,  the  overtures  relating  to  the  Indian  Scheme  and  to  the  Highland 
Scheme  were  read,  when  a  controversy  arose  as  to  the  priority  to  he  given  to  either.  Dr. 
Cook,  of  St.  Andrew's  (the  disappointed  candidate  for  the  Moderatorship,  but  a  most 
deservedly  popular  leader  in  the  General  Assembly),  insistel  that  the  Highland  Scheme 
should  be  discussed  first,  while  on  the  other  hand  Dr.  Inglis  and  his  friends  insisted  that 
preference  should  be  given  the  Indian  Scheme. 

"After  a  lengthened  discussion,  it  was  agreed  that  I  should  be  first  heard.  I  was 
accordingly  called  upon  to  speak,  when  I  stated  that  out  of  personal  respect  for  Dr. 
Inglis,  who  was  my  senior  and.  a  father  of  the  Church,  I  should  give  precedence  at  once 
to  him,  provided  that  the  Assembly  came  to  no  resolution  about  the  Hindoos  till  it  had 
heard  what  we  had  to  say  about  the  Highlanders. 

"After  the  worthy  Doctor  had  concluded  his  able  speech,  I  brought  forward  our  case  at 
great  length,  which  was  heard  with  the  most  marked  attention,  and  our  statements 
enthusiastically  cheered.  Never  did  any  one  enter  upon  the  duties  he  had  undertaken 
with  more  enthusiastic  ardour  and  devotion  than  did  our  venerable  chairman,  nor  did  his 
efforts  for  one  moment  cease  till  the  hour  of  his  death.  I  had  great  cause  for  thankful- 
ness that  I  had  been  enabled  to  bring  this  most  important  subject  under  the  notice  of  the 
Church. 

"It  was  agreed  that  the  convener  of  the  Committee  for  Highland  Education,  the  secre- 
tary, and  I  should  visit  the  Highlands  and  Isles  early  in  the  course  of  the  following 
summer.  An  application  was  made  to  the  Treasury  for  the  services  of  a  revenue-cutter, 
to  convey  us.  Tins  was  very  readily  granted.  Captain  Henry  Beatson,  of  the  Swift, 
was  directed  to  hold  himself  in  readiness  to  convey  us,  and  to  take  in  stores  for  our  use  ; 
with  this  latter  part  of  his  orders,  Captain  Beatson  most  amply  complied,  as  he  took  on 
board  at  Greenock  provisions  that  would  have  served  for  a  voyage  to  Australia. 

"We  first  visited  the  Island  of  Islay,  where  we  experienced  princely  hospitality 
from  Walter  Campbell,  to  whom  the  island  at  that  time  belonged.  From  Islay  we 
proceeded  to  Jura  ;  from  thence  to  Oban,  Lome,  Appin,  and  Lismore  ;  there  we  waited 
upon  the  Pioman  Catholiq  Bishop  McDonald,  who  received  us  with  great  cordiality,  and 
gave  us  letters  to  all  his  priests  in  the  north,  recommending  us  to  their  special  attention. 
We  explained  to  him  at  great  length  the  nature  of  our  Education  Scheme,  assuring  him 
that  the  inspection  of  our  schools  sh  mid  always  be  open  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Priests, 
and  that  no  books  should  be  given  to  the  children  who  were  members  of  his  Church 
except  such  as  he  should  approve  of.  Wherever  we  stopped  on  our  delightful  voyage, 
fowls,  vegetables,  milk,  cream,  and  butter  and  cheese  were  sent  on  board,  and,  where 
they  were  not  so  sent,  Captain  Beatson  was  not  shy  in  asking  them. 

'•  We  visited  Coll  and  Tyree,  and  from  thence  to  the  Western  Isles,  visiting  all  the 
parishes  as  we  went  along,  and,  after  consulting  with  the  proprietors  and  cleigy,  and 
ascertaining  all  the  statistics  connected  with  the  various  places,  we  did  not  meet  with 
one  heritor  who  did  not  grant  ground  for  a  school-house  and  garden  in  the  locality  fixeJ 
upon.  In  Skye  I  went  from  Portree  to  the  parish  of  Dunvegan  to  attend  the  Com- 
munion, which  was  administered  in  a  field  close  to  the  burial-ground  of  Kilmuir,  where 
some  of  my  ancestors  and  many  ot  my  relatives  are  interred.     The  scene  on  this  day  wa.° 


APPENDIX.  455 

most  impressive  ami  .solemn.  The  place  chosen  was  singularly  Qtted  fur  such  an  occasion, 
being  a  natural  amphitheatre,  around  which  the  people  sat.  It  was  calculated  there  weie 
upwards  of  three  thousand  people  present  ;  and  a  more  attentive  and  apparently  devout 
congregation  I  have  seldom  witnessed  assembled  together.  There  was  a  large  tent, 
formed  of  spars  and  oars  covered  with  sails,  erected  for  the  minister  and  his  assistant, 
while  some  of  the  better  class  erected  other  tents  for  their  own  use.  The  church-bell 
rang  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  during  which  time  not  one  word  was  spoken  by  any  one  in 
this  great  congregation. 

"The  day  was  most  beautiful,  a  lovely  summer  day  ;  the  place  of  meeting  was  admirably 
chosen,  there  being  a  kind  of  ascent  on  the  field,  which  made  a  raised  gallery;  Several 
small,  romantic  glens  led  to  it,  by  which  the  people  came  to  the  place  of  worship.  The 
sun  shone  brightly,  the  winds  were  asleep,  and  nothing  broke  the  solemn  silence  save  the 
voice  of  the  preacher  echoing  amidst  the  rocks,  or  the  subdued  sighs  of  the  people.  The 
preacher,  on  such  an  occasion,  has  great  power  over  his  audience.  The  Gaelic  langu 
is  peculiarly  favourable  for  solemn  effect.  The  people  seem  enfolded  by  the  pastoral  and 
craggy  scenery  around  them — the  heavens  over  their  heads  seem  emblematic  of  the 
reddenee  of  the  God  whom  they  worship  and  of  the  final  home  they  are  taught  to  hopi 
for.  They  delight  to  hear  the  voice  of  prayer  ascending  from  the  place  where  they  stand 
to  that  throne  above  from  which  nothing  but  the  blue  sky  seems  to  divide  them  ;  and 
when  all  the  voices  of  such  avast  congregation  are  united  in  religions  adoration,  the 
whole  creation  round  seems  to  be  praising  God.  1  have  indeed  witnessed  the  effect  of 
Gaelic  preaching  and  of  the  singing  of  the  Psalms  in  that  language,  such  as  would  now 
appear  almost  incredible. 

••  Standing  among  the  thousands  on  that  day  assembled  round  the  old  churchyard  of 
KilmUir — a  place  hallowed  by  many  tender  associations — I  never  did  feel  more  over- 
powered. 

"In  singing  the  last  verse  of  the  seventy-second  Psalm  in  our  own  beautiful  Gaelic 
version,  the  vast  crowd  stood  up,  and  repeated  the  last  stanza  and  re-sung  it  with  rapt 
enthusiasm.  On  this  occasion  the  first  sermon  was  preached  by  the  minister  of  a  neigh- 
bouring parish. 

"There  were  but  two  Table  Services,  at  which  a  vast  number  of  communicants  sat. 
The  tables,  and  places  for  sitting,  were  constructed  of  green  sods,  decently  covered.  I 
had  the  privilege  of  addressing  one  of  these  tables,  and  of  preaching  at  the  conclusion  a 
thanksgiving  sermon  from  the  words,  'Grow  in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.'  When  the  whole  service  was  over,  many  old  people,  who  had 
known  my  father  and  grandfather,  came  to  offer  me  their  affectionate  blessing. 

"The  appearance  of  Loch  Dunvegan  that  evening,  covered  with  small  boats  conveying 
the  hearers  to  their  homes,  and  the  crowds. of  people  winding  their  way  among  the  daik 
mountains,  was  singularly  striking. 

"  I  feel  assured  that  such  a  scene  as  the  Communion  Service  that  day  at  Dunvegan  has 
never  since  been  witnessed  in  Skye,  and  I  greatly  fear  never  will  be  again.  A  gloomy 
fanaticism  followed  the  breaking  up  of  the  Established  Church,  and  perhaps  in  no  part 
of  the  country  did  this  bitterness  exist  more  strongly  than  in  the  Western  Islands.  In 
Skye  especially  it  led  to  dividing  families  and  separating  man  from  man,  and  altogether 
engendered  strife  which,  I  fear,  it  will  take  years  to  calm  down. 

"  I  returned  to  Portree  to  join  the  venerable  Principal  and  my  other  friends." 

B. 

A  Ceack  aeoot  the  Kirk  foe  Kintea  Folk. 
First  Crac1:. 

Saunders.  Are  ye  gaun  to  lee'  the  Kirk,  John  ? 

John.  Deed,  Saunders,  I  am  no  vera  keen  about  it  ;  are  ye  gaun  to  lee't  yoursel'  ? 

S.  No  yet,  I  am  thinkin'  ;  what  for  should  I?  I  ha'ebeen  an  elder  in  t  for  twenty 
years  come  the  winter  sawcrament,  and  it's  no  a  waur  Kirk  but  a  hantle  better  ane  syn' 
I  cam'  till't,  and  until  it  gets  waur,  I'll  bide  and  end  my  days  in't,  and  if  it  gets  waur, 
I  can  aye  lee't  whan  I  like. 

J.  Ye'U  no  ha'e  heerd  the  deputations  I'se  warrant  ? 

,S'.  Wha  me?  Did  I  no  !  if  we  are  no  wise  it's  no  for  want  o'  tellin.'  It  puts  my  auld 
head  in  confusion  a'  this  steer  ! 

J.  They're  surely  desperat'  keen  o'  the  fechtan  thae  ministers  wi'  a'  their  crack  about 
biitherly  love  and  peace  ! 


456  LIFE  OF'  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

S.  Ye  may  say  sae  John,  but  ye  keu,  as  the  auld  sayin'  Iiaes't,  "the  best  men  are  but 
men  at  the  best." 

J   Na',  that's  a  truth  !  But  pity  me,  could  they  no  maun  to  reform  the  kirk  withoot 
sic  a  bizz  ?  sic  a  fetchin'  in  sessions,  presbyteries,   synods,  and  assemblies.     Na,  tha'll 
no  do,  thae  maun  ha'e  a  Convention  like  the  Chartists. 
S.  A  Convocation,  John. 

J.  Weel,  weel,  it's  no  the  richt  Parliament,  that's  a*.  And  that's  no  eneuch,  for  they 
maun  baud  meetin's  every  ither  day  in  their  ain  parishes,  and  ovver  and  aboon,  they 
maun  tak'  their  neebours'  parishes  in  hand.  Na,  they're  no  dune  yet,  for  they  maun 
ha'e  committees  o'  a'  the  impudent,  speaking,  fashious,  conceited  chiels,  that  are  aye 
first  and  foremost  in  every  steer  ;  and  tae  keep  them  hett,  they're  aye  bleezing  at  theic 
wi'  circulars,  newspapers,  and  addresses,  and  gif  ony  o'  them  change  their  mind,  be  he 
minister  or  man,  or  daur  to  think  for  himsel',  he  is  cry'd  doon  for  a'  that's  bad  and 
wicked  !     Na,  it's  desperate  wark,  Saunders  ! 

S.  Deed,  John,  the  speerit  that's  abroad  's  gien  me  unco  concern  for  the  welfare  o' 
the  Kirk  o'  Scotland,  but.  mair  especially  for  the  Church  o'  Christ  in  the  land.  It's, 
richt  that  men  should  ha'e  their  ain  opinions,  and  if  they  think  them  gude,  to  hand 
them  up  and  spread  them  in  a  richt  and  Christian  way ;  but  this  way  the  ministers  ha'e 
enoo  o'  gaun  to  work,  I  canna  persuade  mysel'  is  in  accordance  wi'  the  speerit  o'  the 
apostles,  wha  gied  themselves  wholly  tae  prayer  and  the  preaching  o'  the  word,  ami 
were  aye  thankfu'  whan  they  had  liberty  to  do  baith,  and  wha  said  that  "the  servant 
of  the  Lord  must  not  strive,  but  be  gentle  towards  all  men,"  and  "  that  tho'  we  should 
gi'e  our  bodies  to  be  burned,  we  were  nothing,  unless  we  had  that  love  that  thiuketh  no 
evil,  that  beareth  all  things,  that  hopeth  all  things." 

J.  They  put  me  in  mind  o'  bees  bummin'  and  fleeing  aboot  and  doin'  little  wark,  and 
makin'  nae  kame  in  their  ain  skaip  just  afore  castin',  or  like  thae  writer  bodies  at  an 
election  gaun  gallopin'  aboot  the  kintra,  keepin'  the  steam  up  wi^speeches,  and  news- 
papers, till  the  poll  be  bye. 

S.  I  canna  weel  understating,  for  there  are  gude  gude  men  amang  them.  They  aie 
surely  sail'  mislaid?  for  nae doot  they  think  they're  richt.  I  think  that  pledging  way  is 
a  sad  snare  tae  the  conscience  ;  it  baith  keeps  a  man  frae  seein'  that  he's  wrang,  or  when 
he  sees  himsel'  wrang,  frae  puttin'  himsel'  richt. 

J.  It  wad  be  Faither  Matthews,  maybe,  that  pit  that  plan  in  their  head  ? 

S.  Oo,  the  men  are  perfect  sincere,  and  gaun  aboot,  doubtless,  to  pit  folk  in  mind  o' 
what  they  think  their  duty,  and  o'  their  richts  and  preeveleges. 

J.  Sincere  !  It's  nae  comfort  tae  me  tae  tell  me  wdian  a  man's  gaun  to  cut  my  throat 
that  he's  sincere  ;  and  as  tae  stirrin'  up  the  folk  to  mind  their  ain  richts,  they  needna 
think  that  necessar',  for  if  the  folk  are  wranged,  they'll  fin't  oot  wi'oot  the  ministers  tellin' 
them.  If  a  man  has  a  sair  leg  or  a  sick  body  ye  needna  keep  prokin'  at  him  and  roarin* 
in  his  lug  a'  day  that  he's  no  weel ;  or  if  he's  in  jail,  or  turned  oot  o'  his  hoose  tae  the 
streets,  ye  needna  be  threepin'  doon  his  throat  that  he  canna  be  comfortable,  he  kens 
that  better  than  you  ;  but  if  ye  get  haud  o'  a  nervish  Heed  waik  body  a  doctor  can  per- 
suade him  that  he's  deean,  and  mak'  him  ruin  himsel'  wi'  pooders  and  bottles  ;  and  if  he's 
hett  tempered  and  proud,  a  Chartist  can,  maybe,  persuade  him  that  he's  a  slave,  and 
bound  wi'  aims.  Noo,  a'  this  mischief  comes  frae  gabby  speakers  wha  mak'  the  evil,  and 
then  lee'  decent  folk  tae  reform  it. 

S.  Ye're  ower  hett  on't  yerself,  John,  Icon  see  gude  on  baith  sides,  and  difficulties  on 
a'  and  muekle  tae  leform,  tho'  no  eneuch  tae  destroy  ;  but  hers  conies  the  Dominie  and 
Will  Jamieson,  the  tailor,  alang  the  road,  and  ye's  get  it  noo.  lad,  for  ye're  in  the  hands 
o' the  Philistines. 

J.  I  am  but  a  plain  wecver,  Saunders,  and  no  fit  tae  argue  wi'  the  Dominie,  tho' 
carena  about  stickin'  up  tae  Will,  for  him  and  me  has  mony  a  fecht  at  meal  hours  about 
this  Non-Intrusion  ;  but  ye're  an  elder  o'  the  kirk,  and  should  stauu'  up  for't.    Let  us 
sit  doon  on  the  brigg  here,  it's  a  grand  place  fur  a  crack. 

Dominie    Good  day,  Alexander — goud  day,  John. 

S.  &  J.  Gude  day  tae  ye  baith. 

Will.  Ye'll  be  at  yer  auld  wark,  nae  doot.  haudin'  up  the  Kirk? 

J.  An'  ye'll  be  at  yer  auld  wark,  pullin't  doon  ? 

S.  Indeed,  John  and  me  war'  jist  cracking  aboot  our  auld  Kirk,  and  he  thinks  ye're 
gaun  tae  ding  it  doon  a'  thegither. 

,/.  Na,  I  ken  naething  about  it,  Maister,  Am  unco  concerned  for  its  walfare,  and  me 
and  Saunders  are  muekle  o'  ae  mind  that  there's  something  far  wran?  whae'er  haes  the 
blame 


APPENDIX.  457 

D.  You  may  say  so,  John  ;  they  are  surely  farwrong  when  Ministers  of  the  Gospel  can 
he  forced  upon  reclaiming  congregations  against  the  will  of  the  people;  when  the  civil 
power  (•■•in  interfere  with  the  Church  in  the  discharge  of  her  spiritual  duties  ;  when  the 
State,  not  Christ,  assumes  to  he  head  of  the  Church.  When  all  power  of  exercising1 
<  Ihurch  discipline  is  taken  from  her,  surely,  then,  Ichabod,  "  the  glory  is  departed,"  may 
be  written  upon  her  walls  ! 

Will.  An'  the  ministers  maun  gang  noo  tae  the  Court  o'  Session  tae  get  a  text  for  their 
sermons,  and  tae  sea  wha's  tae  he  let  into  the  communion  table,  for  nae  minister  nor 
elder  can  cheep  noo  unless  wi'  their  bidding,  and — 

J.   That's  a  wheen  blethers,  "Will !  an'  its  aye  your  way  to  run  aff  wi'  the  harrows. 

S.  Stap  noo  lads,  dinna  begin  the  fechtin'  like  twa  dogs  owera  bane.  But  1  wad  like, 
Mr.  Brown,  tae  hear  your  opinion  anent  this  question.  Ye  ha'e  mentioned  mony  a  bad 
thing  (as  ye  say)  that's  come  tae  the  Kirk,  an'  it's  no  easy  to  pick  a'  the  threeds  out  o' 
sic  a  ravelled  hank,  but  gif  the  tae  half  was  true  o'  what  ye  say,  I  wadna  stay  in  the 
Kirk  anither  sabbath,  unless  we  could  get  things  mended !  But  either  o'  us  are  far  mis 
taken.     But  first  o'  a ,  what  think  ye  o'  the  Non-Intrusion  question  ? 

D.  I  think  that  no  man  should  be  minister  in  any  parish  contrary  to  the  will  of  the 
people.     I  thought  this  question  was  settled  in  the  mind  of  every  good  man. 

>S'.  Do  ye.  mean  that  nae  man  should  be  a  minister  o'  a  parish  if  the  folk  jist  say  they'll 
no  ha'e  hirn,  wi'oot  gi'en  rhyme  or  reason,  wi'oot  savin'  why  or  wherefore,  wi'oot  s>ayin' 
black's  yer  e'e  or  ought  against  him  ! 

D.     Just  so,  if  the  Christian  people  say  no — no  it  must  be.     For  who  dare  say  yes  ? 

S.  That  was  aye  the  opinion  o'  the  Dissenters,  but  I  ne'er  kent  that  it  was  the  law 
o'  the  Kirk,  so  that  it  couldna  be  a  Kirk  at  a'  wi'oot  it. 

I).     It  is  the  law  ;  read  from  First  and  Second   Books  of  Discipline. 

-S'.  I  ha'e  read  them,  an'  I  couldna  see  that  law  in  them;  at  least,  if  it  was  in  them  I 
nt'er  kent  the  state  had  agreed  till't. 

Will.  Tak'  cot  yer  Books  o'  Discipline,  Maister,  and  read  the  bits  tae  Saunders,  he  an' 
the  likeo'  him  are  keepit  in  darkness. 

J.  He  canna  be  in  darkness  wi'  sic  a  new  light  as  you,  Wull  ;  tho'  I  am  afeard  ye'll 
pruve  but  a  penny  clip  after  a'  ! 

D.  Here  are  the  Books  of  Discipline.  Let  us  look  at  them  ;  there  is  the  first  book, 
chap,  iv., — "It  appertaineth  to  the  people  and  every  several  congregation  to  elect  their 
minister." 

S.     There  was  nae  Pawtronage  then  at  a',  it  seems. 

Z>.  No,  there  was  not  in  the  Protestant  Church,  and  the  people  had  a  right  to  elect 
their  minister  ;  but.  if  within  forty  days  they  did  not  exercise  this  right,  the  superin- 
tendent and  his  counsel — 

J.     He  was  a  kind  o'  Bishop,  I  tak'  it. 

D.  Never  mind — but  he  presented,  after  examination,  a  minister  to  the  vacant  con- 
gregation. Now,  observe  these  words, — "  altogether  this  is  to  be  avoided,  that  any  man 
be  violently  intruded  or  thrust  upon  any  congregation  ;  "  there,  ye  see,  is  the  Non- 
Intrusion  in  the  First  Book  of  Discipline. 

S.  Let  me  see't,  sir.  But  what  say  ye,  Mr.  Brown,  to  the  rest  o'  the  passage  ?  It's 
no  fair  the  way  you  Non-lntrttsionists  aye  stop  at  that  part  o'  the  sentence,  for  it  gangs 
on  to  say, — "  But  violent  intrusion  we  call  not  when  the  counsel  of  the  Church,  in  the 
fear  of  God,  and  for  the  salvation  of  the  people,  oil'ereth  unto  them  a  sufficient  man  to 
instruct  them,  whom  they  shall  not  be  forced  to  admit  before  just  examination."  An' 
quite  richtthat,  but  see,  they  daurna  reject  this  man  wi'oot  "just and  sufficient  reason," 
lor  it  says,  "  that  they  shall  be  compelled,  by  the  censure  of  the  counsel  and  church,  to 
receive  the  person  appointed  and  approved  by  the  judgment  of  the  godly  and  learned." 

J.  That's  no  your  kind  o'  Non-Intrusion,  Will ;  there  can  be  nae  reasons  in  your 
liberty-line  ? 

»S'.  But  they  tell  me  this  First  Buke  o'  Discipline  was  ne'er  agreed  tae  by  the  State  : 
that  it  was  just  made  by  the  Kirk  whan  she  was  in  the  voluntary  way,  an'  whan  she 
might  mak'  what  laws  she  liked  wi'oot  losing  her  Establishment,  for  she  wasna  estab- 
lished at  a'. 

Will.  Tak'  him,  Mr.  Brown,  then,  tae  the  Second  Book  o'  Discipline,  if  this  ane  'ill  no 
please  him. 

D.  Yes,  there  can  be  little  doubt  what  the  mind  of  the  Church  was  in  reference  to 
Non-Intiusion  when  that  book  was  composed.  In  chap.  xii.  it  is  declared  "the  liberty 
of  the  election  of  persons  called  to  the  ecclesiastical  functions,  and  observed  without 
interruption  so  long  as  the  Kirk  was  not  conupted  by  antichrist,  we  desire  to  be  restored 


45S  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

and  retained  within  this  realm.  So  that  none  be  intruded  upon  any  congregation  either 
by  the  Prince  or  any  inferior  persons  without  lawful  election,  and  the  assent  of  the 
people  over  whom  the  person  is  placed,  as  the  practice  of  the  apostolical  and  primitive 
Kirk,  and  good  order,  craves.  And,  because  this  order  which  God's  word  craves  cannot 
stand  with  patronage  and  presentation  to  benefices  used  in  the  Pope's  kirk,  &c.,  &c, 
and  for  so  much  as  that  manner  of  proceeding  has  no  ground  in  the  icord  of  God,  but  is 
■contrary  to  the  same,  and  to  the  said  liberty  of  election,  they  ought  not  now  to  have 
place  in  this  light  of  reformations."  So,  you  see,  that  patronage  is  "against  the  word 
of  God,"  "flows  from  the  Pope's  church,"  and  cannot  stand  with  the  liberty  of  election 
ami  of  consent  which  the  people  should  have." 

Will.     That'll  dae  ye  surely,  Saunders  ? 

S.  I  see  the  teetle  o'  that  chapter  is  "  Certain  special  Heads  o'  Reformation  which  we 
crave."  Put  I  ha'e  been  telt,  and  ne'er  heard  it  contradicted,  that  the  State  ne'er  gied 
them  this  they  craved. 

IK     The  Second  Book  of  Discipline  was  agreed  to  by  the  State. 

S.     But  no  this  bit  o't,  for  surely  wi'  a'  they  say  against  pawtronage  they  tuik  it  ? 

J.     I'se  warrant  they  wadna  tak'  Kirk  wi'  sic  an  uuholy  thing, — did  they,  Maister  ? 

D.     Why — why,  I  believe  they  did. 

J.  Did  they  i'ac !  an'  yet  they  say  that  what  ye  ca'  Non-Intrusion  couldna 
staun'  wi't  ! 

Will.  But  do  ye  no  see  that  if  they  hadna  ta'en  the  Kirk  wi'  patronage  then,  they 
couldna  ha'e  got  a  Kirk  established  at  a'  ? 

J.  I  see  that  as  weel  as  you.  I  see  they  couldna  keep  Non-Intrusion  in  ane  hand  and 
Establishment  in  the  ither  ;  that  these  couldna  staun'  thegither  ;  but  were  they  no  gleg 
tae  baud  a  grip  o'  a'  gude  establishment  wi'  manses,  glebes,  and  stipends,  wi'oot  Non- 
Intrusion,  than  to  ha'e  a  voluntary  Kirk  wi'oot  patronage, — that's_what  they  should 
dae  yet. 

D.  They  cannot  do  it ;  for  even  though  Non-Intrusion  (as  it  is  in  the  Books  of  Dis- 
cipline) might  not  have  been  agreed  to  by  the  State, — tho'  I  say  it  was — it  is  yet  in  the 
Word  of  God,  and  that  is  enough  for  me, — for  the  Church  rests  her  claims,  not  on  her 
Books  of  Discipline  only,  but  also  on  the  immovable  foundation  of  the  Word  of  God. 

S.  I  am  verradootfu'  abootthis  way  o'fatherin'  ilka  thing  that  conies  into  ane's  head 
on  the  Word;  I  ne'er  could  see  ae  way  o'  Kirk  government  in  the  Word  o'  God. 

D.  What!  you  an  elder  who  have  in  the  most  solemn  manner  declared  that  you  believe 
the  Presbyterian  form  of  Church  government  to  be  agreeable  to  the  Word  of  God !  you  to 
speak  thus  ? 

S.  Aye  !  agraeable  tae  the  specrit  o  the  Word,  but  maybe  no  found  in  the  letter  o'  the 
Word. 

D.  But  can  you  think  that  the  great  Head  would  leave  no  directions  to  His  Church 
as  to  its  government  ? 

S.  Directions !  there's  nae  doubt  he  has  left  directions ;  he  has  telt  us  that  the  field  o' 
our  wark  is  the  world,  that  the  seed  is  to  be  sawn,  and  he  has  appointed  ministers  and 
office-bearers  for  the  sawing  o'  the  seed,  and  all  is  to  be  dune  that  much  fruit  may  be 
brought  forth  to  the  glory  o'  God ;  but  I  quastion  if  He  has  gien  verra  preceese  directions 
aboot  the  way  the  workmen  in  the  vineyard  are  to  be  appointed,  or  aboot  a'  the  various 
kinds  o'  instruments,  the  pleughs,  the"  harrows,  that  are  to  be  used  for  cultivating  the 
field,  or  for  workin't,  sae  that  it  may  bring  forth  a  gude  crap. 

Will.  That's  queer  doctrine!  Did  he  no  tell  Moses  that  a'  things  were  to  be  made 
accordin'  to  the  pattern  gien  him  on  the  mount? 

J.  Wha's  speakin'  aboot  Moses,  Ise  warrant  he  was  obleegcd  to  male'  a'  things  accord- 
in'  tae  the  pattern  because  he  got  ane !  aye,  a  pattern  o'  the  verra  candlesticks,  and  o* 
their  nobs !  And  doe  ye  no  think  that  God  could  hae  gien  as  preceese  a  pattern  o'  the 
Christian  Kirk  if  it  had  been  his  wull,  that  there  should  hi  ae  form  for  the  whole  world? 
or  as  Saunders  would  say,  If  every  field  and  every  soil  was  just  to  be  ploughed,  harrowed, 
and  sawn  doon  in  the  same  way? 

Will.  I  would  think,  John,  the  truth  wad  be  truth  in  every  part ;  that  if  a  thing  was 
true  in  Scotland,  it  wad  be  true  in  every  ither  part  o'  the  world. 

J.  I  would  think  sae  tae,  Will,  but  we  are  no  speakin'  aboot  the  truth,  but  aboot  the 
way  o'  gettent,  and  it  doesna  hinder  a  man  to  get  the  truth  as  weel  as  you,  tho'  he  doesna 
clap  on  your  specks  tae  see't  I 

D.  But,  Alexander,  I  think  it  is  hardly  possible  for  any  unprejudiced  man  to  read  the 
New  Testament,  and  not  to  see  clear  intimations  of  the  will  of  the  great  Head  of  the 
Church,  in  reference  to  the  right  inherent  in  its  members  to  elect  their  pastors;  or  at  all 


APPENDIX  4.39 

events,  to  exercise  such  an  influence  in  their  selection,  as  to  pi       at  anyone  beiri£  place  I 
over  them  without  his  first  being  tried  by  the  people. 

S.  1  canna  say,  Mr.  Brown,  that  I  ever  .saw  that  very  clearly  si  t  doon  in  the  word  o' 
God  ;  whar  do  ye  find't  ? 

D.    la  the  history  we  have  of  11, e  election  of  an  .'  an  I  of  b  Dea  ion,  and  in  the 

commands  which  are  given  to  the  Christian  people,  to  beware  of  false  prophets,  to  try 
tin'  spirits ;  examples  which  if  followed,  and  commands  which  if  obeyed,  are  utterly  in 
sistent  with  any  view  of  Church  Government  but  the  one  recognised  by  the  popular 
party  in  the  church  of  Scotland. 

J.    That's  a'  verra  full  text  that  ye  hae,  maister. 

Will,  break  it  doon  for  them,  and  gie  them't  in  parts  then  ;  begin  wi'  the  election  o' 
the  Apostles  and  Deacons. 

I).  That's  easily  done,  and  I  candidly  think  ought  to  convince.  We  have  an  account 
of  the  election  of  an  apostle  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  Aft-.  It  is  there  said,  ''And  they 
appointe  1  two,  Joseph  called  Barsabas,  who  was  surnamed  Justus,  and  Matthias.  And 
they  prayed,  and  said,  Thou,  Lord,  which  knowest  the  hearts  of  all  men,  show  whether 
of  these  two  thou  hast  chosen,  that  he  may  take  part  of  this  ministry  and  apostleship, 
from  which  Judas  by  transgression  fell,  that  lie  might  go  to  his  own  place.  And  they 
gave  forth  their  lots  :  and  the  lot  fell  upon  Matthias  ;  and  he  was  numbered  with  the 
eleven  Apos'les."     Is  not  that  popular  election  ? 

S.  I  candidly  tell  you  that  I'm  verra  doubtiul  about  it;  for  }re'l  notice,  in  the  first 
place,  when  it's  said  "they  appointed  two,"  and  "they  prayed,"  and  "they  gave  forth 
their  lots,"  it  doesna  say  who,  did  this,  the  people  or  the  apostles.  Then  see  again  it 
wasna  them  that  selected  but  Christ;  "shew  whether  of  these  two  Thou  hast  chosen," 
for  He  had  chosen  all  the  others;  and  lastly,  the  mind  of  Christ  was  found  out  by  lot! 
My  opinion  is,  that  this  was  a  supernatural  way  o'  choosin'  out  an  office-bearer,— ane 
that's  no  in  the  Christian  Church  at  a'  uoo,  viz.,  an  apostle. 

Will.   It  proves  to  my  mind  that  folk  should  hae  a  say  in  the  election  o'  a  minister. 

J.  It  proves  jist  as  weel  vote  by  ballot ! 

T>.  I  am  merely  stating  you  my  opinion,  and  you  have  a  perfect  right  to  state  yours. 
I  think  of  course  that  the  election  of  Matthias  is  intended  to  guide  the  Christian  Church 
in  all  ages.     This  opinion  is  confirmed  by  what  took  place  in  the  electing  of  a  deacon. 

J.  We  hae  nae  deacons  at  a'  noo  ;  the  only  ane  I  ever  kent  was  auld  Jock  Morton, 
the  deacon  o'  the  tailors. 

8.  Whist,  John,  wi'  your  nonsense  ;  mony  o'  our  Kirks  hae  deacons,  and  we  would 
hae  them  here  if  the  office  o'  the  deacon  wasna  performed  by  the  elders,  and  I  think  the 
two  offices  should  be  distinct  in  every  Christian  congregation. 

Will.  And  elected  by  the  people. 

D.  That  I  think  is  intimated  very  clearly  and  beyond  all  doubt,  in  the  history  given 
us  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  the  Acts.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  they  were  elected  by 
the  people,  for  we  read  that  the  twelve  called  the  multitude  and  said,  "wherefore, 
brethren,  look  ye  out  among  you  men  whom  we  will  appoint  over  this  business,  but 
we  will  give  ourselves  continually  to  prayer  ani  the  ministry  of  the  word,"  and  it  is 
added  that  the  saying  pleased  the  people,  and  that  they  elected  the  deacons  accordingly  ; 
what  can  be  plainer  ? 

S.  But  a  deacon's  no  a  minister,  he  doesna  teach — but  looks  after  the  poor ;  and  it 
wasbutricht  and  fair  that  the  folk  that  subscribed  the  money  should  elect  frae  amongst 
them,  them  that  were  to  pay  it  awa  ;  and  when  the  people  pay  their  ministers  it  will  be 
time  eneuch  to  quastion  whether  they  should  elect  them. 

J.  It's  my  mind,  frae  readin'  that  history,  that  had  it  no  been  for  the  grumbling o'  the 
Oipwians  against  the  Hebrews,  for  their  widows  no  gettin'  their  ain  share  o'  the  puir's 
money,  there  wad  hae  been  nae  deacons  at  a' !  There's  twa  things,  hoo'ever,  gien  us 
plain  there,  namely,  that  the  kirk  had  deacons  then,  and  that  the  ministers  gied  them- 
selves wholly  to  prayer  and  preaching  o'  the  word  then,  but  I  canna  see  thae  twa  things 
in  the  kirk  noo,  and  surely  thae  things  are  plainer  than  Non-Intrusion. 

D.  If  the  people  then  were  enabled  to  judge  of  men  having  such  high  qualifications 
as  these  "  Men  of  honest  report,  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  wisdom,"  I  think  they  can 
hardly  ever  be  called  upon  to  judge  of  higher.  Would  that  they  had  a  body  from  whom 
they  could  make  such  noble  selections  ! 

8.  Ye  may  say  sae,  maister  !  and  would  that  we  had  sic'  a  body  o'  communicants  as 
electors,  and  that  we  had  sic  a  presbytery  as  the  apostles  to  chack  their  election  !  that's 
what  I  say,  that  things  that  might  work  weel  eneuch  then  will  no  dae  noo. 

Will.   I'll  ne'er  agree  tae  that  !     There's  naething  surely  should  be  in  the  Christian 


4G0  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

Church  noo  that  wasna  in  the  Christian  Church  then  ;  if  there  is,  it  canna  be  accordin* 
to  the  word  o'  God. 

J.  Naething  in  the  Christian  Church  noo  but  what  was  in't  then  !  Whare  will  ye 
get  parishes,  and  parish  Kirks,  and  stipend,  and  glebes,  and  heritors'  meetings  in  the 
early  Christian  Kirk  ?  I  wunder.  Will,  hoo  ye  ever  cam  intae  the  Kirk  o'  Scotland  \vi' 
that  wheen  nonsense  ?  If  ye  hadna  some  scent  o'  sense  in  ye,  I  wadna  wunder  tae  hear 
ye  propose  that  a'  the  communicants  noo  should  kiss  ane  anither,  as  they  did  then. 

Will.  The  matters  ower  serious  for  that  jokin';  ye're  frightened  for  the  argument 
aboot  tryin'  the  speerits  ;  that's  aye  hair  in  yer  neck. 

S.  I  wish  ye  would  baith  tak'  an  example  frae  Mr.  Brown,  wha  states  his  arguments 
calmly  and  decently,  and  then  lets  folk  judge  it.  What's  your  mind  on  that  passage 
aboot  tryin'  the  speerits  ? 

D.  The  passage  is  this,  "  Beloved,  believe  not  every  spirit  but  try  the  spirits,  whether 
they  are  of  God,  because  many  false  prophets  are  gone  into  the  world."  These  are  the 
words  of  the  beloved  disciple,  who  probably  had  in  his  eye  the  equally  clear  command- 
ment oi  his  master,  "  Beware  of  false  prophets,  who  come  to  you  in  sheep's  clothing,  but 
inwardly  are  ravenous  wolves." 

S.  And  what  do  these  passages,  do  you  think,  prove  ? 

D.  They  prove  that  "the  spirits,"  "the  prophets,"  or  ••  ministers"  are  to  be  tried 
by  the  disciples  :  that  this  is  not  a  privilege  conferred  upon  them  by  the  Church,  which 
the}'  may  or  may  not  exercise,  which  the  Church  can  give  or  take  away  ;  but  that  it  is  a 
solemn  duty  which  the  Christian  people  must  perform,  as  they  shall  answer  to  their 
great  Head  ;  now  our  Kirk,  believing  that  the  Christian  people  had  during  the  sway  of 
moderation)  been  deprived  of  this  right,  and  desiring  to  legislate  according  to  the  woid 
of  God,  did  in  1S34  pass  the  much  abused  veto-law. 

J.  A  lang  text  again,  Mr.  Brown  !  but  I  dootna  Saunders  would  gie  a  gude  comment 
on't. 

&  It  seems  tae  me  verra  doobtfu'  what  is  meant  by  the  command  "  try  the  spirits." 
Some  commenters  think  that  it  was  an  extraordinary  gilt  o'  the  Speerit  which  the  early 
Christian  Church  had — this  power  o'  discernin'  the  speerits  o'  ither  men — tae  ken 
whether  they  should  be  admitted  as  church  members,  or  tae  ken  whether  the  prophets 
were  tellin'  the  truth  or  tellin'  lies  when  they  were  foretelling  things  to  come.  But 
even  grantin'  that  the  meanin'  o'  the  passage  is  such  as  you  mak'  it  oot,  what's  tae  hinder 
the  disciple  frae  trying  speerits  noo  as  then,  and  frae  being  beware  of  false  prophets  ? 
Every  disciple  in  the  parish  Church  should  try  the  speerit  of  the  parish  minister,  and  if 
he  doesna  think  that  he  is  guided  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  that  he's  no  preaching  the  gos- 
pel, he  should  try  the  speerit  o'  anither  minister. 

Will.  But  what  if  ye  hae  nae  ither  minister  tae  gang  till ;  I  maun  tak'  the  parish 
minister  though  ye  dinna  like  him,  or  else  want. 

S.  A  sair,  sair  business,  black  business,  if  a  presbytery  o'  ministers  meeting  in  the 
name  o'  Christ,  pit  in  a  man  that  doesna  preach  the  glad  tidings  o'  the  gospel  fully  and 
freely  !  Sic  things  may  be,  but  we  are  a'  sinfu'  men,  an'  there's  nae  system  perfect  ;  and 
even  if  there  war  popular  election,  we  read  o'  a  time  when  they  wull  not  endure  sound 
doctrine,  but  after  their  own  lusts  shall  they  heap  tae  themselves  teachers,  having  itch- 
ing ears,  and  they  shall  turn  away  these  ears  from  the  truth,  and  shall  be  turned  into 
fables  ;  and  I'm  auld  eneuch  tae  ken  that  there's  as  muckle  pawtronage,  o'  as  tyrannical 
a  kind  as  e'er  was  in  the  Kirk,  among  mony  dissenters — that  they're  no  a  bit  better 
pleased,  nor  sae  weel  pleased  mony  o'  them,  wi'  their  ministers,  than  we  are  wi'  ours, 
and  they  hae  nae  cause  tae  be  sae. 

Will.   But  ist  no  an  unnatural  thing  pawtronage  ? 

«S'.  It  may  be  unnatural  tae  see  a  German  lad  and  an  English  lassie  owre  the  great 
British  empire,  but  like  pawtronage,  it  works  maybe  better  than  if  the  King  was  tae  be 
elected. 

J.  But  do  ye  think,  maister,  that  a  Kirk  canna  be  a  Kirk  o'  Christ  unless  the  folk 
hae  the  power  ye  speak  o'  ? 

D.  No  Church  can  be  a  Church  of  Christ  unless  it  obeys  Christ's  commands. 

/.  Dootless;  but  then  ye  see  a'  the  dispute  is  aboot  what  the  commands  o'  Christ  are, 
an'  if  they  be  what  ye  mak'  them  oot  tae  be,  if  the  people  maun  a'  try  the  speerits  o' 
their  pastors,  what  becam'  o'  the  Kirk  o'  Scotland  up  tae  1834  ?  Wha  tryed  the  speerits 
o'  thae  ministers  that  are  crying  oot,  sae  muckle  aboot  the  licht  o'  the  people  tae  do  sae 
nco  ?  Wha  tryed  the  speerit  o'  that  lang-legged  chiel,  wha  d'ye  cae  him,  wi'  the  spats 
and  umberella,  that  cam'  here  wi'  the  deputation  ?  1  am  telt  there  wasna  twenty  signed 
his  call. 


APPENDIX.  461 

Will.  The  pastoral  relation  canna  be  formed  witlioot  full  consent,  for  he  that  comcth 
in.  ye  ken,  by  a  wrang  door,  is  a  thief  and  a  robber. 

.'  Sae  lie  it;  Imt  it'  he  comes  in  by  the  wrang  door,  and  stays  in,  he  is  a  thief  and  a 
robber,  till  he  gangs  out  and  comes  in  by  the  richt  w  ly  ;  but  will  ony  o'  ye  tell  me  what 
way  the  Kirk  o'  Scotland  was  before  the  passing  o'  this  veto  ? 

V  For  112  years  she  was  under  moderate  rule,  and  the  lights  of  the  Christian  people 
wi  i'  ■  trampled  upon. 

/  'ill.  The  Christian  people  couldn a  cheep,  they  had  nae  power  at  a',  and  the  fcirl 
wa  sua  gaun  accordin'  to  the  mind  o'  God,  but  clean  against. 

J.  We  hae  surely  been  in  a  desperate  state. 

Will.  We  couldna  weel  be  warn-. 

J.   1'se  warrant  the  Kirk  o'  Scotland  couldna  be  a  Kirk  o'  Christ  then. 

Will.  Deed  she  was  far  frae't. 

J.  I  canna  thole  this  nonsense !  If  she  wasna  a  Kirk  o'  Christ,  boo  did  a'  they  minis- 
ters that  are  bleezing  against  her  come  into  her  at  a'  ?  hoo  did  ye  become  a  communicant 
in  her  ?  hoo  did  God  bless  her,  and  inak'  her  a  blessing  ?  And  if  she  teas  a  Kirk  o'  Christ 
without  your  vetoes,  would  she  no  continue  a  Kirk  o'  Christ  tho  a'  your  vetoes  were  done 
awa'  wi',  and  a'  this  stramash  put  an  end  to,  and  she  to  gang  back  to  what  she  was  be- 
fore 1334? 

S.  Tae  gang  back,  but  in  truth  tae  gang  forward  !  for  Vse  desperate  keen  for  gudc  re- 
form, and  wad  like  the  folk  had  mair  power  ;  but  I  wad  like  to  get  it  in  a  legal  way  ;  I 
would  like  to  improve  the  machine,  put  in  new  screws,  and  mend  what  was  awanting,  and 
gie't  plenty  o'  oil  ;  but  I'm  no  for  breaking  down  the  machine  a'  thegither  that  has  done 
sae  muckle  gude,  because  it's  no  fashioned  to  the  pattern  o'  this  man  or  that.  It  was 
that  veto  law  played  a'  the  mischief ! 

J.  Wi'oot  even  being  agreeable  to  the  word  of  God  !  according  as  Mr.  Brown  lays't 
doun. 

Will.   It  was  agreeable  to  the  word  o'  God. 

J.  Was't  ?  ye  tell  us  that  a'  the  disciples  should  try  the  speerits — that  a'  the  disciples 
should  hae  a  say  in  the  election  o'  a  minister  ;  noo  ane  wad  thiuk  that  the  Kirk  would 
gie  us  popular  election  after  that.  Na,  says  the  Kirk,  nane  o'  the  female  disciples — 
and  the  female  disciples  were  among  the  greatest  ornaments  of  the  early  Kirk — nane  o' 
them  are  to  hae  a  say — nane  o'  the  young  men  are  to  hae  a  say — nane  o'  the  servant-lads 
are  to  hae  a  say — nane  but  the  male  heads  are  tae  cheep — as  if  a'  the  sense  o'  the  congre- 
gation was  in  their  heads  ;  and  little  sense  after  a'  maun  be  in  them !  for  it's  no  expected 
o'  them  that  they  can  hae  sense  eneuch  tae  gie  reasons  ;  but  just  tae  say,  No  !  That's 
a  droll  way  o'  trying  the  speerits,  and  being  ready  to  gie  a  reason  for  the  faith  that's  in 
them  tae  every  man.  Noo  the  veto  was  nather  agreeable  to  the  word  o'  God  as  it's  laid 
down  by  you,  nor  was  it  agreeable  to  the  law  o'  the  land  as  laid  down  by  all  the  judges. 
And,  if  she  has  got  into  this  scrape  it  wasna  for  want  o'  tellin'  and  warniu'.  Mony  a 
time  it  was  said  in  the  Assembly  that  a'  this  mischief  wad  come.  Even  the  gude  Dr. 
M'Crie,  I'm  telt  by  Mr.  Struthers,  said  before  the  House  o'  Commons  afore  it  was  passed, 
that  the  Kirk  had  nae  powers  tae  pass  this  law,  and  that  it  wad  bring  us  into  confusion. 

S.  I  am  elear  about  its  unlawfulness,  and  that  when  the  Kirk  passed  that  law  she 
took  the  fust  word  o'  fly  ting,  and  that  her  determination  to  keep  that  law,  tho'  it  has 
been  declared  illegal,  has  been  the  grand  cause  o'  her  late  troubles. 

Will.  There  ye  gang  with  your  Erastianism,  putting  the  law  o'  the  land  higher  than 
the  law  of  God — putting  the  ceevil  courts  aboon  the  Church  of  Christ— making  the  king 
the  head  o'  the  Kiik. 

J.  Hae  ye  got  into  this  line,  Will,  o'  calling  your  neighbour  nicknames  ;  and  cram- 
ming doon  folks'  throats  opinions  they  abominate,  and  putting  sentiments  in  their 
tongues  they  never  uttered  ?    It's  no  fair. 

D.  Neither  is  it  fair  for  you  to  assert  that  the  church  disobeys  the  law  and  is  a  rebel  ? 

JS.  Does  she  no  disobey  the  law  ? 

D.  No  !  for  she  denies  that  it  is  the  law. 

€.  But  haena  the  ceevil  courts  declared  that  the  Kirk  broke  the  law,  and  broke  her 
bargain  wi'  the  state,  when  she  passed  the  veto  ;  that  she  interfered  wi'  the  ceevil  richts 
o'  pautrons,  and  that  as  lang  as  she  keeps  the  veto  she's  breaking  the  law  ? 

D.  Yes,  the  civil  courts  have  declared  so,  but  the  Church  Courts  have  declared 
otherwise.  Now  the  Church  Courts  are  as  much  courts  of  the  country  as  the  civil 
courts  are,  and  have  an  equal  right  with  them  to  interpret  law  as  affecting  the  church  ; 
you  surely  do  not  think  that  the  civil  courts  should  have  the  power  of  laying  down  the 
law  to  the  Church  ;  as  to  what  her  duty  is  in  spiritual  matters;  that  would  be  subject- 
ing the  Church  to  the  State  with  a  vengeance  ! 


462  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

S.  Na  !  naebody  that  I  ken  thinks  sae,  and  Mr.  Simpson  tells  me  that  the  ceevil 
eouits  intend  nae  sic  thing,  but  only  lay  doon  the  bargain  the  Kirk  made  wi'  the  State 
tae  keep  her  till't.  Let  me  speir  at  you,  Sir,  are  there  ony  laws  o'  the  State  aboot  the 
puttin'  in  o'  ministers  at  a'  ?  or  has  the  State  left  the  established  Kirk  to  mak  ony  law 
she  likes — tae  hae  patronage  or  nae  patronage — election  by  the  male  heads — an  election 
by  the  communicants,  just  as  she  pleases — tae  try  what  man  she  likes  for  a  parish  or  no- 
tae  try,  or  are  there  ony  Acts  o'  Parliament  or  ony  laws  o'  the  land  aboot  thae  things? 

D.  There  have  certainly  been  many  Acts  of  Parliament  about  these  matters. 

Will.  That's  whaur  the  Voluntaries  say  we  are  wrang,  tae  hae  thae  things  in  Acts  o* 
Parliament  at  a' ! 

J.  An  ye  would  like  tae  hae  Acts,  and  no  tae  be  bund  by  them !  But  what  I  say  is 
this,  there's  nae  harm  to  be  bund  tae  a  thing  we  hae  agreed  tae,  nor  to  be  bund  doon 
tae  dac  what's  richt,  and  tae  walk  in  ae  road  when  it's  for  the  gude  o'  the  hail  com- 
munity, it's  better  this  than  tae  hae  a  voluntary  liberty  o'  loumn  ower  hedges  and 
dykes. 

"  S.  You  twa  are  desperate  keen  for  a  colleyshangy,  ye're  aye  interrupting  me  and  Mr. 
Brown.  Ye  were  saying,  Sir,  there  were  different  Acts  aboot  the  puttin'  in  o'  ministers ; 
noo  who.  passed  thae  Acts  ?  and  for  what  Kirk  ? 

D.  They  were  passed  of  course  by  the  Biitish  Parliament,  for  the  protection  of  the 
Church  of  Scotland. 

S.  The  British  Parliament!  is  that  a  ceevil  body? 

D.  Undoubtedly  it  is!  you  cannot  suppose  it  an  ecclesiastical  body  ? 

£>'.  Weel,  surely  the  Acts  o'  a  ceevil  body  are  ceevil  Acts,  and  whatna  court  but  a. 
ceevil  court  should  explain  them? 

D.   But  you  will  observe  that  these  Acts  refer  to  spiritual  and  religious  matters. 

J.  Sae  do  the  Acts  aboot  the  Sabbath-day  ;  for  wasna  Tarn  Speirs,  that  ne'er-do-weel, 
afore  the  Shirra,  Friday  was  aught-days,  and  tried  by  him  for  breaking  thae  Acts. 

D.  You  observe,  Saunders,  what  I  before  said  was,  that  while  the  civil  courts  should 
interpret  these  Acts,  the  Church  Courts  should  interpret  them  as  well. 

Will.  And  that's  hut  fair  play.  If  twa  folk  war  disputin'  aboot  a  march  dyke,  it's 
surely  richt  that  the  ae  man  should  hae  as  muckle  say  aboot  it  as  the  tither;  and  sae 
whan  the  Kirk  and  State  differ  aboot  their  march,  it's  but  fair  the  Kirk  should  hae  a 
say  aboot  it  as  weel  as  the  State. 

/.  Aye,  Will— and  baith  should  gang  tae  a  third  pairty— the  ceevil  courts,  that  ex- 
plain a'  bargains,  and  refer  the  matter  tae  them.  But  ye  wad  like  the  Kirk  tae  draw 
her  ain  march  wi'  the  State,  and  naebody  tae  challenged  wi'oot  his  being  caad  an  enemy 
tae  the  Headship ! 

A  Weel !  I  hae  nae  objections  as  an  elder,  that  the  ceevil  courts  should  hae  the  sole 
power  o'  sayan — no  what  a  Kirk  o'  Chri-t  should  teach  or  do,  that  nae  power  on  yirth 
can  say— but  o'  declaring  what  preeveleges  the  state  has  promised  tae  gie  the  Kirk  o' 
Scotland  as  an  establishment,  and  what  she  has  pledged  hereel  tae  dae  while  established. 
I  ken  mysel  that  I  haena  the  education  nor  the  knowledge  tae  ken  law — far  less  tae  gie 
a  vote  against  the  judges  and  the  lord  chancellor  aboot  the  law  o'  the  land.  Nor  do  I 
think  I'm  gaun  against  the  headship  in  this;  for  I  ne'er  kent  that  tae  explain  Acts  o' 
Parliament  was  ane  o'  the  preeveleges  conferred  on  me  as  a  Chrislian  man.  And  let  me 
ax — if  the  twa  courts  hae  the  richt  tae  explain  the  verra  same  Act — what's  to  be  dune  if 
they  gie  twa  meanings  tie't  ?  they  maun  baith  be  law  ?  hoo  can  a  man  serve  twa  maisters? 

J.  Na,  that's  a  truth.  If  the  ceevil  courts  say  the  Act  means  sae  and  sae,  that  the 
craw  is  black ;  and  if  the  Kirk  Courts  say  it  means  sae  and  sae,  that  the  crate's  while  ; 
and  if  I  maun  obey  the  law,  and  if  my  gude  name,  and  my  comfort,  and  the  comfort  o' 
a'  my  family  ;  na,  maybe  the  peace  and  welfare  o'  the  community  and  kirk  depends  on 
my  sayan  whether  the  craw's  white  or  black,  what  i'  the  world  can  I  do,  when  I  want 
tae  dae  what's  richt  ? 

D.  Let  the  Church  Courts  follow  out  their  interpretation  with  spiritual  effects,  and 
let  the  civil  courts  follow  out  their  interpretation  with  civil  effects,  and  this  prevents  all 
clashing. 

,S".  It's  a  guy  confused  business  !  and  I  sunder  hoo  folk  are  sae  mad  at  one  anither 
when  they  differ  on't,  and  hoo  some  o'  the  hassocks  and  lads  are  sae  gleg  sure  aboot  it ; 
and  abune  a'  hoo  they  would  ding  doon  a  Kirk  aboot  sic  difficult  questions.  But  yet  I 
canna  see  hoo  your  way  can  keep  the  twa  Courts  sundry  ;  for  what  if  each  o'  them  bid 
a  man  do  the  same  thing?  And  I'm  tel't  that  this  is  just  what  they  did.  The  ceevil 
courts  in  explaining  the  law,  said  tae  the  presbyteries  o'  Strathbogie  and  Auchterarder, 
•'  Gude  or  bad,  the  law  jsthat  ye  are  tae  try  the  presentee  and  no  the  folks,  and  if  ye 


APPENDIX.  46S 

iln'uk  liim  fi!  l\.r  the  place  the  bargain  is,  ye  are  to  put  him  in  ;  the  crati  s  blackl" 
Then  the  Kiik  Courts  said  :  "The  law  is  that  the  folks  are  tae  try  him,  and  if  they  are 
no  pleased,  ye  are  tae  hae  uaething  tae  do  with  him  ;  that'  o ;  the  craw's  white!" 

"  Black  it  is  !"  says  the  Presbytery  o'  Strathbogie.     "Gif  ye  Bay  Bae,"  says  the  Kirk 
Courts,  "  doon  wi' j'our  lishentfcs,  and  awa  oot  o  your  parishes."     "Wesaysae," 
the  presbytery  o'  Strathbogie.  "for  we  think  the  ceevil  courts  line  alane  the  rich t  tee 
tell  us  what's   the  meaning  o  nu  Act  o'  Parliament."     "Bicht."  says  the  ceevil  courts  f 
"and  we'l  protect  ye  in  your  parishes,  and  no  Let  ye  lie  put  to  beggary  for  obeying 
law."     "  The  crate's  white  t"  says  the  Presbytery  <>'  Auchterarder,  "  and  we']  no  try  the* 
presentee."     "Wrang,"says  the  ceevil  courts,   "we'l  hue  ye  for  no  doing  your  di 
and  for  keeping  a  man   unlawfully  frae  the  parish."     "  Richi,"  says  the  church  cow  ts, 
"and  ne'er  gie  in  that  the  craw's  black,  for  if  ye  dae  jell  be  enemy  tae  your  Kiik." 
Say  what  ye  like  it's  a  bothersome  business  ! 

D.  But  I  have  a  practical  question  to  put  to  you,  Saunders,  Supposing  ihe  civil 
courts  were  to  command  you  to  do  anything  contrary  to  the  law  of  God,  would  you  us- 
an  elder  or  a  member  of  the  Church  obey  it  ? 

Will.  Ay,  that's  the  question. 

S.  Hoo  can  it  be  a  question  with  a  Christian  man  ?  Surely  even  a  babe  in  Christ 
kens  that  it  is  his  duty,  first  and  foremost  duty,  to  obey  <  !od  lather  than  men,  tho'  these 
men  should  be  members  of  Parliament,  or  niembeis  of  Assembly,  statesmen  or  church- 
men. 

J.  Weel  done,  Saunders  ! 

D.  And  what  would  you  do  then,  if  you  were  put  in  this  position,  the  civil  courts 
telling  you  that,  as  an  office-bearer  in  the  Establishment,  you  are  bound  to  do  something, 
which  you  think  contrary  to  your  duty  to  Christ  ? 

S.  I  would  leave  the  Kirk,  I  wadna  try  and  break  the  bargain  ;  but  I  would  say  tae- 
the  state,  The  bargain's  a  bad  ane,  and  I'll  leave  your  service  and  be  a  Voluntary,  and 
then  I  can  mak  a  law  the  day,  and  change  it  the  morrow. 

D.  Leave  the  Church  !  when  you  are  acting  agreeably  to  the  mind  of  God,  and  obey- 
ing his  most  holy  word  !  Is  that  not  giving  up  all  spiritual  independence,  the  right  to- 
act  in  spiritual  matters,  uncontrolled  by  any  power  in  earth. 

S.  I  believe  the  Kirk  has  perfect  liberty  and  spiritual  independence  to  do  the  walk  she 
promised  to  do,  to  teach  the  doctrines  she  agreed  tae  teach  as  an  Established  Kirk,  but 
that  she  has  nae  power  tae  gang  beyond  that  without  becoming  a  Voluntary  Kiik. 

D.  You  surely  don't  mean  to  assert  that  a  Church  of  Christ  on  becoming  Established 
can  give  up  a  particle  of  that  liberty  which  essentially  belongs  to  her  as  a  Church  of 
Christ! 

S.  Certainly  not  !  but  it's  maybe  no  easy  to  say  what  liberty  essentially  belongs  to  a 
Kiik  o'  Christ  ;  but  I  ken  this,  that  there's  mony  a  thing  she  might  do  as  a  Voluntary 
Kirk,  that's  completely  oot  o'  her  power  to  do  as  long  as  she  is  an  Established  Kirk. 

Will.  I  think  ye'll  no  mak  that  oot,  Saunders. 

8.  It's  no  ill  tae  mak  that  out.  Hae  we  spiritual  independence  to  change  ae  doctrine 
in  the  Confession  of  Faith  ?  hae  we  spiritual  independence  tae  put  awa  patronage  ?  tae 
gie  the  election  tae  the  people  ?  tae  put  down  ony  o'  the  Kirk  Coorts  ?  or  tae  pit  up  ony 
mair  ?  Hae  the  ministers  power  tae  draw  their  stipends,  and  tae  preach  whur  they 
please  ? 

Will.  We  surely  hae. 

S.  We  surely  hae  na  eis  an  Establishment :  nae  doubt  the  Kirk  o'  Scotland  might  mak* 
a'  thae  changes  the  morrow,  but  she  wculd  be  nae  langer  the  Kirk  Establishment.  She 
maun  gie  up  her  connection  wi'  the  State,  or  be  bound  wi'  the  Acts  that  made  her  an 
established  Kirk  ;  gie  up  her  bargain  or  keep  it. 

Will.  But  if  the  Church  cam'  to  the  opinion,  that  ony  Act  was  against  the  Word  ot 
God,  would  she  no  be  bound  to  disobey  that,  or  would  she  hae  nae  leeberty  tae  change  it  ? 

S.  No  !  she  would  hae  liberty  to  become  a  Voluntary  Kirk,  but  she  could  hae  nae  liberty 
as  lang  as  she  remained  in  connection  with  the  State  to  change  the  bargain  without  tie 
Slate  agreeing.  Do  ye  think,  that  if  the  State  had  agreed  to  the  veto  law,  that  the  Kiik 
could  hae  changed  that  law  the  week  after  and  gien  the  power  the  folk  to  elect  the 
ministers  ?  if  the  Kirk  can  do  this,  I  kenna  what's  the  gude  o'  bothering  itsel'  to  get  Acts 
o'  Parliament  at  a'. 

J.  There's  a  hantle  o'  talk  aboot  the  Kirk  said  this  and  the  Kirk  said  that  ;  but  after 
all,  I'm  thinking  it  just  means,  that  some  ministers  in  Edinbro'  said  this  and  that,  and 
they  seem  tae  think  their  mind  must  be  aye  the  mind  o'  Christ ;  as  far  as  I  can  see  what 
they're  wanting  is,  that  the  State  should  gie  them  their  manses  and  glebes  and  power, 
and  to  pass  an  Act  tae  let  the  Kirk  do  whatever  she  phases. 


404  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

D.  I  must  confess,  Alexander,  that  I  think  you  are  wrong  in  regard  to  spiritual  inde- 
pendence ;  the  Church  of  Scotland  should  be  every  bit  as  free  as  a  Voluntary  Church. 

S.  I  canna  see  hoo  it's  possible  as  lang  as  there's  ony  Acts  o'  Parliament  aboot  her.  I'll 
tell  you  in  ae  word  my  mind  on't.  I  hired  a  servant  on  Friday  last,  and  I  made  a  bar- 
gain with  him,  that  in  winter  he  was  to  thrash  sae  mony  hours  in  the  day  ;  he  agreed  to 
this,  and  1  hae  the  bargain  in  my  pouch  ;  noo  maybe  some  day  when  he's  thrashing,  some 
<V  the  tramping  chiels  will  come  smoking  their  pipes  aboot  the  barn-yard,  and  say, 
"  Ye're  a  poor  slave,  thrashin'  awa'  there  instead  o'  walking  aboot  the  kintra  and  enjoy- 
ing your  freedom  like  its  ;"  noo  T  kenna  what  the  lad  might  say  ;  as  he  is  no  wanting  in 
numption,  may  be  it  might  be  this,  "  Lads  !  I  was  ance  independent  like  you,  but  I  had 
nae  clothes  and  nae  meat,  and  was  aboot  tae  wander  frae  place  to  place  tae  mak'  a  fend, 
but  o'  my  ainfree  consent,  I  made  a  bargain  wi'  the  farmer  to  do  a  particular  work  ilka 
<lay,  and  I  am  independent  na  lanrjer  except  to  keep  my  bargain  ;  for  I  bound  mysel'  by 
it,  and  if  this  be  slavery,  I  would  advise  you  tramping  chiels  tae  be  slaves  as  fast  as  ye 
can  !"  This  would  be  speaking  like  a  man  of  sense,  but  maybe  his  acquaintance  might 
put  clavers  into  his  head,  and  he  might  come  to  me  and  say,  "  I'll  no  trash  in  the  barn 
onv  mair."  "  What  for  ?"  quo  I.  ,;  Because,"  says  he,  "  I'm  no  independent  !  I  canna 
do  what  I  like  !"  "  I  ken  that,"  says  I,  "but  it  was  yoursel'  agreed  to  the  bargain." 
"It's  a  bad  ane,"  says  he.  "  Bad  or  "glide,"  says  I,  "  a  bargain's  a  bargain,  and  ye  maun 
keep  it  or  lee  my  service."  "What  would  you  think  o'  him  if  he  would  say,  "  I'll  no 
lee  your  service^  I'll  eat  your  bread,  but  I'll  no  do  your  wark  !"  And  tins  just  ex- 
plains the  sang  aboot  the  spiritual  independence  o'  the  Kirk  ;  the  feint  the  hate  do  the 
ceevil  coorts  do,  but  explain  the  bargain  and  mak'  the  Kirk  do  it's  work,  or  gong  oot 
the  house  ;  and  naething  else  does  the  Kirk  do  than  say,  "I'll  neither  do  the  lane  or 
tithcr." 

D.  But  granting,  Saunders,  for  the  present,  that  the  civil  courts  have  the  power  of 
interpreting  the  bargain,  is  it  not  clear  that  the  bargain,  as  they  have  interpreted,  is  such 
as  no  Church  of  Christ  can  accept  of  ?  They  tell  you  that  every  presentee  presented  by  a 
patron  must  be  taken  on  trials,  and  no  objections  can  be  made  against  him  except 
against  his  literature,  his  life,  or  his  doctrines  ;  that  if  these  objections  are  not  agreed  to 
by  the  presbytery,  they  are  bound  to  induct  him,  although  the  people  should  be  against 
him;  they  have  declared  that  a  minister  deposed  for  drunkenness  must  still  keep  his 
manse  and  his  glebe,  and  be  a  minister  of  the  Church  of  Scotland. 

Will.  Na  ;  ye  canna  keep  a  man  noo  out  o'  the  communion  table  without  asking 
leave  o'  the  ceevil  courts. 

S.  I  ken  every  presentee  maun  be  taen  on  trials,  and  that  has  aye  been  the  case  since 
I  mind.  I  ken  that  the  law  is  now,  as  Lord  Brougham  says,  that  ye  can  only  object  on 
the  grounds  ye  speak  o';  but  I  also  ken  that  Sir  James  Graham  has  said,  that  the  Presby- 
tery can  try  if  a  man's  suitable,  and  cast  him  on  that,  and  ye  ken  weel  enough  that  Mr. 
iSinclair  or  Sir  George  got  a  bill  agreed  to  by  the  government,  gien  power  to  the  people  to 
mak'  a'  ki?ids  o'  objections  that  could  come  into  their  head,  and  gien  power  to  the  Presby- 
tery tae  reject  the  man  if  the  objections  were  giule  :  or  even  if  they  werna  gude,  yet  if 
they  thocht  they  would  slaun  in  the  way  o"  his  being  useful  in  the  parish  ;  and  the  Kirk 
rejected  it !  And  a  grand  bargain  it  was  !  and  they  tell  me  we  could  get  it  yet  if  the  Kirk 
would  tak  it. 

D.   The  Kirk  will  never  take  it. 

J.  They  are  surely  ill  tae  please  ;  what's  wrang  aboot  it  ? 

D.  Because  though  the  Church  has  liberty  to  reject  at  all  times  when  they  do  not 
think  a  presentee  suitable,  yet  when  they  do  think  him  suitable,  it  gives  the  Church  the 
power  to  admit,  though  the  people  should  be  against  him. 

S.  And  mair  power  than  this  we  never  had  as  a  Kirk,  mair  than  this  we'll  never  get, 
mair  than  this  we  should  naget  ;  for  mony  a  man  may  suit  a  place  though  the  folk  at 
first  dinna  like  him  ;  and  it  will  be  an  awful  responsibility  for  them  wha  would  put 
down  the  kirk  wi'  sic  muckle  liberty. 

D.   I  think  acceptableness  absolutely  necessary  for  the  forming  of  the  pastoral  relation. 

S.  I  think  acceptableness  a  great  blessing,  ane  that  presbyteries  and  pawtrons  should 

luik  weel  to,  for  it  maks  things  work  grand  and  smooth  when  a'  are  pleased.     But  I'm 

no  sae  sure  that  it's  essential,  though  beneficial.     For  gif  it  be  sae  tae  the  making  o'  this 

relation  at  first,  it's  surely  essential  tae  its  keepan  up  ! 

D.  No.  The  marriage  relation  is  not  formed  without  acceptableness,  but  this  is  not 
necessary  for  keeping  it  up. 

S.  I  differ  frae  ye.  The  marriage  relation  is  formed  when  folk  are  married  whether 
they're  pleased  wi'  ane  anither  or  no.     But  I  again  say,  that  if  a  minister  when  he's  no 


APPENDIX.  4G5 

kent,  when  lie  has  only  been  in  the  parish  ance  or  twice,  preached  twanr  three  sermons 
if  he  canna  wi'oot  sin  be  placed  ower  a  parish  whaur  he  is  no  acceptable  (though  may  bo 
they  will  love  him  dearly  in  a  wi',  when  they  ken  him),  .surely  he  canna  wi'oot  far 
greater  sin  lie  keeped  ewer  the  parish,  when  after  hearing  him  for  years  ami  kenna  him 
weel,  they  come  tae  despise  or  maybe  tae  hate  him!  Ye  maun  just  tak  the  American 
waj  n't,  a  man  by  the  sax  months. 

Will.  Hut  whot  say  ye  aboot  lettin  drunken  ministers  into  the  kirk  and  no  having  the 
power  to  keep  out  bad  communicants  ? 

S.  1  say  that  the  ceevil  coorts  never  said  that  the  church  couldna  put  out  drunken 
ministers,  but  it  is  said  that  courts  wi'  the  Chapel  ministers  had  nae  legal  power  to  try 
or  depose  a  minister. 

J.   Nae  mair  than  Will  there  has  power  to  try  a  man  for  murder. 

8.  And  as  to  keeping  out  bad  communicants,  I  solemnly  tell  ye  that  I  would  not  stay 
in  the  Kirk  if  she  had  not  that  power,  but  I  am  weel  informed  that  that  power  has  ne'er 
been  interfered  wi'. 

Will.  And  hoo  do  ye  get  quit  of  all  thae  stramashes  aboot  Strathbogie  and  Auchte- 
rarder  ? 

8.  That's  beginning  anither  lang  story,  but  ae  thing  is  clear  to  my  mind,  that  all  the 
mischief  in  these  parishes,  and  it's  no  little,  has  just  come  frae  the  Kirk  driving  its  veto 
law  through  thick  and  thin.  But  I'm  no  gaun  tae  defend  a'  the  Ceevil  Coorts  did,  or  a' 
the  Kirk  Coorts  did ;  in  some  things,  am  thinking,  they're  baith  wrang.  But  I  ken  a' 
was  quiet  till  that  veto  was  tried — that  every  dispute  has  been  aboot  it.  And  I  canna 
think  but  thae  presbyteries  in  the  North  micht  hae  made  things  pleasanter  tae  if  they 
had  liked.  Surely  some  o' thae  fauschious  duels  warna  "suitable;"  maybe  some  o' 
thae  fauschious  folks  werna  verrie  easy  pleased. 

J.  I'll  tell  you  my  way  o't,  but  I  may  be  wrang.  The  Kirk  said  to  the  State,  Gie  us 
manses,  glebes,  and  pay,  and  we'l  teach  the  folk  religion.  What  religion  will  ye  teach  ? 
says  the  State.  The  Confession  of  Faith,  says  the  Kirk.  Done,  says  the  State.  But 
how  will  ye  place  ministers  ?  We  would  like  the  people  to  elect  them,  says  the  Kirk. 
It  canna  be,  says  the  State  ;  gang  awa  wi'  ye.  Bide  a  wee,  says  the  Kirk  ;  will  ye  mak 
an  oiler  ?  I  wull,  says  the  State  ;  it's  this,  Ye  may  lishence  the  men  and  see  them  fit 
for  duty,  and  let  the  patron  choose  wha's  to  be  minister,  for  he  has  gien  a  gran  glebe, 
manse,  and  stipend  for  the  gude  o'  the  parish.  And  can  the  people  no  object  ?  says  the 
Kirk.  Oh  ay,  says  the  State,  they  may  ;  and  if  their  objections  are  gude  let  the  pre- 
sentee be  rejected  by  the  presbytery  ;  and  if  they  are  no  gude  let  him  be  put  in  ;  and  if 
the  jieople  are  no  pleased,  let  them  bigg  a  Kirk  and  Manse  for  themselves.  Done,  says 
the  Kirk.  We'l  tak  a  note  o'  the  bargain,  says  the  State.  And  for  mony  a  year  "and 
clay — 130  years  since  the  last  bargain — they  worked  brawly  thegither  ;  but  in  1834  the 
Kirk  rued  and  thocht  the  bargain  no  a  gude  ane,  especially  as  she  had  aye  been  braggin' 
to  the  Voluntaries  that  she  was  as  free  as  them,  and  sae  she  passed  the  Veto  law — a 
kind  o'  sly  way  o'  jinking  the  State.  Weel,  a  minister  gets  his  presentation  and  comes 
to  the  Presbytery  and  axes  them  to  try  him  and  see  if  he  was  fit  for  the  parish.  Na,  na, 
says  the  Presbytery,  lad,  thae  days  are  a'  by  :  gang  awa  to  the  folk  and  see  what  they 
think  o'  ye.  It's  no  fair,  says  the  lad,  but  I'll  try.  So  he  gangs  and  preaches  to  them, 
and  they  a'  glower  at  him,  for  the're  desperate  keen  for  anither  man  ;  and  what  care 
they  for  the  patron  ?  No  a  dockan.  So  they  cock  their  heads  at  him,  and  tell  him  tae 
be  aff  tae  his  mither  if  he  likes.  No  sae  fast,  says  the  lad.  So  he  comes  to  the  Presby- 
tery and  says,  that  they  maun  see  if  he  is  fit  for  the  place.  What  says  the  folk  to  ye, 
quo  the  Presbytery  ?  They  say  naught,  says  the  lad,  but  jist  ta  gang  hame  ;  the'l  no 
tell  me  for  what.  Weel,  says  the  Presbytery,  hame  ye  maun  gang,  and  tak  your  presen- 
tation in  your  pouch.  It's  a  pity,  says  the" lad,  that  the  patron  payed  sae  muckle  for't, 
for  it  seems  little  worth  ;  but  I  think  ye  hae  cheated  me  out  o'  my  place.  So  he  gangs 
hame  and  tells  the  pawtron  hoo  they  steekit  the  door  on  him,  and  wadna  speir  a  question 
at  him.  The  patron  says,  quo  he,  baith  o'  us  are  clean  cheated  ;  you  oot  o'  your  place, 
and  me  oot  o'  my  richt  o'  presentin'  you  till't,  and  they  are  gaun  against  law  ;  for  the 
law  says  that  them,  and  no  the  folk,  are  tae  try  ye,  and  see  if  ye  are  fit  for  the  place, — 
gang  doon  tae  the  Presbytery  wi'  my  compliments,  and  tell  them  that.  So  he  gangs 
doon,  and  they  flee  on  him  and  tell  him  the  law  is  wi  them.  We'll  see  that,  says  the 
paw  tron  ;  so  he  and  the  lad  gang  to  the  court  o'  session,  and  the  Kirk  gangs  tae,  and 
spier  at  the  judges  what's  the  law  ?  The  judges  sae  that  the  law  is  sae  and  sae,  that  the 
pawtron  and  lad  are  richt.  Auld  Gowks  !  says  the  Kirk,  they  are  wrang.  Then,  says 
the  pawtron,  we'll  try  the  Lords.  So  the  Lords  say  that  the  Kirk's  wrang,  and  that  the 
duel's  richt.     We  are  no  heedin',  says,  the  Kirk  ;  so  they  tell  the  lad  ta  gang  aboot  his 

30 


406  LIFE  OF  NOBMAN  MACLEOD. 

business,  and  gif  the  Lords  like  they  may  gie  him  the  stipends  ;  but  if  he  gies  mair  gab, 
they 'I  tak  hie  lishence  frae  him.  But  they  say,  says  the  lad,  they  carina  gie  me  the 
stipends  till  ye  open  the  door  and  ordain  me.  We'll  ne'er  do  that,  says  the  Kirk.  I 
ken,  says  the  pawtron,  that  nae  power  on  yirth  can  mak  ye  do  that,  but  certies  ye  maun 
gie  a  compensation  for  the  injury  ye  had  done  me  and  the  lad,  and  surely  ye'll  say  that's 
cccvil  effects  I 

D.  After  all  I  have  said,  and  after  all  you  have  heard  from  the  various  deputations,  I 
see  it  would  be  useless  to  carry  on  this  discussion  longer, — my  mind  is  made  up.  T  grieve 
to  think  it,  but  I  fear  it  will  be  my  imperative  duty  to  leave  the  church  establishment, 
to  go  out  with  those  noble  men,  who  are  making  so  many  sacrifices  for  conscience  sake, 
and  to  give  a  Free  Presbyterian  Church  for  Scotland. 

J.    As  tae  what  they'l  gie  to  Scotland,  that's  no  ken't  yet ;  but  I  see  they're  trying  tae 
take  a  gude  Establishment  frae  her, — and  whatna  sacrifices  are  they  makin'? 
W'tll.  Sacrifices !     Castin'  their  manses,  glebes,  stipends,  and  a'  tae  the  winds, 
/.lam  tell't  that  they  are  gey  an'  gleg  aboot  the  siller,  and  desperat  tae  get  it ;  they 
say  they  are  tae  hae  a  central  fund  in  Edinbro,  and  tae  gie  a'  the  ministers  that  gang  oot 
wi'  them  £100  a  year,  besides  the  tae  half  o'  their  ain  winnings.     It'll  be  a  gran  lift  to 
some  o'  they  Cod  Sakker  chiels. 
B.   Quoad  Sacra ! 

H.  A  bunder  pound  a  year !  they'll  ne*er  maun  tae  keep  an  Establishment  for  Scotland. 
D.   I  am  not  afraid  of  it ;  the  rich  will  give,  the  poor  will  give ;  for  the  old  spirit  is 
up :  the  Blue  Banner  is  abroad,  and  the  whole  world  will  see  what  Scotland  can  do. 
J.   I  would  rather  see't  than  hear  tell  o't. 

Will.  See  auld  Mr.  Smith  in  this  verra  parish,  what  he  has  gien. 

J.  Aye  ;  for  the  body's  desperat  keen  in  the  business ;  but  think  ye  will  his  son  Jo>'k 
gie  when  he's  dead  and  gane?  Na !  I  mind  ance  Dr.  Chaumers  comin'  here,  and  a  gay 
thick  way  he  has  in  his  talk,  tho'  folk  that  understan'  him  say  he's  gran; — it  was  at  the 
church  extension  time,  and  he  and  them  that  were  wi'  him  proved  hoo  the  Establish- 
ment, wi'  a'  that  it  had,  and  wi'  the  thoosands  that  it  was  liftin'  every  year  (and  I'm 
thinkin'  they  got  £300,000),  and  wi'  the  help  the  Dissenters  was  gieing  them,  they 
couldna  maun  tae  supply  gospel  ordinances  tae  the  kintra ;  and  think  ye  will  they  maun't 
noo  withoot  an  establishment,  wi'  a'  their  bawbee  collections  ?  If  they  do,  I  can  only 
sae  there  hae  been  a  hantle  o'  braw  speeches  cast  away ;  and  if  they  dinna,  it's  no  them 
but  puir  workin'  men  like  me,  that  will  be  the  sufferers ;  for  what  care  I  to  hae  the  elec- 
tion o'  a  minister,  when  I'm  ower  puir  to  hae  ane  at  a'? 

D.   Stay  in  then,  and  bring  back  the  reign  of  moderatism  and  of  darkness,  and  see  our 
great  schemes,  the  glory  of  the  Church,  destroyed,  and  behold  our  national  Zion  become 
a  desolation,  a  hissing,  and  a  proverb.     When  she  has  deserted  her  great  Head,    t  is 
time  for  me  to  leave  her. 
Will.  An'  for  me  tae  ! 

S.  And  gif  a'  ye  say  was  true,  or  had  ae  particle  o' truth  in't,  it  would  be  time  for  us  a'  tae 
gang  ;  but  as  the  apostle  says,  "to  him  that  thinketh  it  is  unclean,  to  him  it  is  unclean; 
but  let  such  man  be  fully  persuaded  in  his  own  mind ;  let  us  not  judge  one  another,  for 
we  must  all  stand  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ."  Let  me  speak  freely  tae  ye,  Mr. 
Brown,  before  we  part, — ye  hae  said  mony  things  that  grieves  my  heart.  As  tae  the 
reign  o'  moderatism,  nae  doubt  Scotland  was  ance  what  she's  no  noo.  I  mind  mysel  a 
time  when  there  was  na  sic  faithfu'  preachin'  in  the  parish  kirks  as  noo ;  but  God  in  His 
mercy, — for  tae  Him,  and  no  tae  this  set  o'  men  or  that,  be  the  praise — breathed  by  His 
Spirit  on  this  valley  of  dry  bones ;  and  I  noo  ken  mony  men  whom  ye  ca'  moderates,  be- 
cause they're  no  convocationists,  that  are  God-fearing,  zealous  men,  kent  and  loved  in 
their  ain  parishes,  tho'  they're  may  be  no  in  the  mouth  o'  the  public;  and  I  ken  mony 
that  are  foremost  eneuch  in  this  steer,  that  in  my  opinion,  hae  verra  little  o'  the  meek- 
ness and  gentleness  o'  Christ.  Ye  speak  o'  our  schemes,  and  ye  may  weel  ca'  them  the 
glory  o'  the  Kirk  ;  but  do  these  no  prove  jist  what  I  sav  ?  Wha  got  up  the  schemes  for 
the  Hindoos?  Dr.  Inglis,  the  head  o'  the  Moderates.  Wha  got  up  the  education  scheme 
for  the  Hielands?  Principal  Baird,  a  Moderate.  Wha  was  ower  the  Colonial  Church 
scheme  in  Glasgow?  Principal  M'Farlan,  a  Moderate.  Dr.  Chaumers,  a  gude  man, 
and  a  man  I  lo'e,  tho'  I  think  he's  wrang,  was  ower  the  ither  ane. 

J.  He's  the  only  ane  o'  them  a'  that  rued,  for  he's  for  puttin'  down  the  kirk  noo  a' 
thegither. 

S.  Whist  John.  As  tae  the  Kirk  deserting  its  great  Head,  God  forbid  that  that 
should  be  true  !  I  deny  it,  and  am  ashamed  that  men  that  should  ken  better  should  put 
such  disturbing  thoughts  into  the  minds  o'  Wjjak  Christians.      1  hae  heard  the  sang  afore 


APPENDIX.  467 

noo, — the  M'Millans  hae  keepit  it  up  for  100  years, — and  il  wa  '  the 

red  ling  o'  the  marches  atween  them  and  the  Establishmenl  on  the  Monday  <>'  their  sacra- 
ment ;  the  Auld  Lights  took  up  the  same  sang  when  they  lefl  the  Kirk  ;  it's  no  new 
tae  my  liigs,  stritTI  nd  make  me  leave  the  Kirk.  I'll  bide  in  lier  1  Her  verra  dust 
to  mi'  is  dear  !  I  was  born  agin  within  her  walls ;  s<>  were  some  o'  my  bonny  bairns  that 
are  sleeping  outside  o'  them.  I  hae  been  strengthened  and  comforted  during  my  pil- 
grimage wi'  her  ordinances,  ami  I'll  no  break  up  her  ( lommunion  tabic  as  lang  a  j  I  hae 
power — and  it  has  ne'er  been  taken  fae  me  yel  tae  keep  awa  the  ungodly  and  the  pro- 
Cane;  and  as  lang  as  Christ  is  preach'd  within  her  walls,  I'll  stay  tae  help  tae  reform 
her,  tae  help  tae  purify  her,  ami  tae  pray  as  lang  as  breath  is  in  my  body,  lor  her  pes 
and  prospei  Lty. 

J.  I'll  stay  tae,  for  I  canna  get  a  better  Kirk  nor  our  ain  ;  the  Dissenters  are  gude 
folk,  but  I'm  no  Voluntary. 

Will,  Gang  tae  the  M'Millans  if  there's  nae  free  Kirk  in  the  parish  ;  they  are  the  best 
representative  o'  our  covenanting  ancestors. 

/.  The  M'Millans  !  It's  no  will  I  gang  into  their  Kirk,  but  will  they  let  me  in  ? 
Wi'  reverence  be  it  spoken,  it's  easier  tae  get  into  the  Kingdom  o'  Grace  than  tae  get 
intae  their  Kirk  ;  wi'  a  baud  o'  the  covenant  o'  grace  by  faith,  I  can  enter  that  Kingdom  ; 
but  this  is  nae  pass  at  their  door.  I  maun  hae  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant,  and 
twa  or  three  mair,  or  be  keepit  oot  as  a  heathen  and  a  publican!  It's  black  popery, 
putting  the  traditions  o'  our  faithers  on  a  footin'  wi'  the  Word  o'  God.  As  tae  your 
wooden  Kirks,  nane  o'  them  for  me  !  they'l  be  desparat  cauld  in  winter,  and  hett  in  sim- 
mer,— I'll  stick  by  the  auld  stane  and  lime,  and  I'm  mistaen  if  it'll  no  stau'  a  hantle 
deal  langer  than  a'  your  timber  biggins  ! 

S.  Let  us  no  pairt  wi'  "bitterness,  wrath,  clamour,  and  evil  speaking."  Let  us 
rather  "  Strive  to  keep  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of  Peace. "  Though  we  differ 
as  tae  the  means,  we  a'  agree  I  hope  as  tae  ends — we  a'  seek,  if  Christian  men,  the  gude 
o'  the  Church  o'  Christ  in  Scotland,  and  desire  the  glory  of  its  great  Head.  As  tae  the 
best  way  o'  bringing  this  aboot  I  may  be  wrang,  and  sae  may  ye — for  neither  o'  us  are  in- 
fallible, but  we  may  a'  be  upright — we  may  a'  sincerely  desire  tae  please  God  ;  and  if 
He  has  promised  tae  bless  such,  and  tae  gie  them  licht,  and  tae  "  accept  their  willing 
mind,"  let  us  nae  be  accusing  and  judging  ane  anither,  casting  the  blame  on  a  bad  con- 
science rather  than  on  a  waik  understanding  or  want  o'  opportunity  o'  kennan  the  truth. 
We  should  tak'  care  that  in  strivin'  tae  keep  others  frae  castin'  off  Christ  as  their  Head, 
we  dinna  cast  Him  aff  ourscls  by  disobeying  His  commands.  It's  a  great  comfort  tae 
think  that  the  Lord  reigns,  and  that  wi'  us,  or  in  spite  o'  us,  He  wull  advance  his  ain 
cause.  Let  the  earth  be  glad  !  It  was  a  gude  sayan  o' auld  Mr.  Guthrie,  "  in  things 
essential,  unity :  in  things  doobtfiC,  liberty;  and  in  a' things,  charity."  Let  us  thus 
walk,  and  Oh  !  speed  the  time  when  we  shall  meet  thegither  in  the  general  assembly 
above  ;  when  "  Judah  shall  no  more  vex  Ephraim,  nor  Ephraim  Judah."  Friends  and 
neighbours  shake  hands  ! 

I).  With  all  my  heart, — I  respond  to  your  sentiments,  and  I  know  you  to  be  good  and 
honest.     I  pray  that  we  may  all  "  be  sincere,  and  without  offence  at  his  coming." 

Will.  There's  my  haun  tae  ye.  We  hae  been  auld  neebours  and  fellow-communicants, 
and  it's  right  we  shouldna  forget  "  who  we  are,  and  whom  we  serve."  But  yet  I  wad 
like  a  pure  Kirk. 

J.  Mony  a  splore  you  and  me  hae  had  ;  but  we  can  shake  hands  yet.  Lang  may  it 
be  sae  !  As  tae  a  pure  Kirk,  ye'll  mind,  maybe,  what  the  great  and  gude  Mr.  Newton 
remarked  till  a  leddy  that  ance  said  what  you  say  noo.  "  We'll  ne'er,  my  friend,"  said 
he,  "  get  a  pure  Kirk,  till  we  enter  the  ane  above  ;  and  ae  thing  is  certain,  that  if  there 
was  ane  on  yirth,  it  wad  be  pure  nae  langer,  if  you  and  me  entered  it  !" — Gude  day  wi' 
ye  a'  !     (They  shake  hands  and  part,  and  sae  ended  the   "  Crack  aboot  the  Kirk.''' 


468  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

C. 
Address  presented  before  landing  at  Bombay. 

"  To  the  Reverend  Norman  Macleod,  D.D. 


"  Reverend  and  Dear  Sir, 


"Steamship  Rangoon, 

"2othNov.,  18C7. 


"We,  the  Captain,  Officers,  and  Passengers  on  board  the  steamship  Rangoon, 
cannot  bid  you  adieu  without  expressing  our  grateful  sense  of  the  peculiar  privilege 
we  have  enjoyed  in  your  society  and  your  ministrations. 

"As  being  all  of  us  connected  with  India,  we  cannot  but  feel  and  believe  that  the 
visit  to  that  country  of  one  who  exercises  so  great  and  beneficial  an  influence  on  public 
opinion  at  home  must  be  productive  of  the  greatest  benefit. 

"We  all  most  sincerely  unite  in  wishing  you  and  your  colleague  Dr.  Watson  a  pros- 
perous journey,  and  a  safe  and  happy  return  to  your  country  and  families. 
' '  We  beg  to  remain, 

"Reverend  and  dear  Sir, 

"  Yours  gratefully  and  affectionately, 
(Signed), 

"D.  Ronaldson,  Captain;  Campbell  Keir,  Solicitor;  G.  A.Leckie,  Col.,  B.  Staff 
Corps;  George  Campbell,  Commissioner  at  Nagpore ;  W.  D.  Robertson,  C.S., 
Bombay;  M.  Mull,  Friend  of  India  Newspaper ;  A.  A.  Munro,  Major,  Bengal 
Army;  John  M.  Champion,  Major,  R.E. ;  J.  H.  B.  Hallen,  B.  Army,  Inspec- 
tor of  Garrisons  ;  Wm.  Thorn,  M.D.,  B.  Army;  John  D.  Fuller,  Lieut. -Col., 
R.E. ;  A.  E.  Haighly.  B.A.,  Revenue  Survey;  H.  E.  Bright,  Esq.,  or  Ensign'; 
Thomas  D.  Rogers;  James  Sheldon ;  Jessie  M'Culloch;  Frances  Marriott ; 
Anna  M.  Lynch  ;  S.  M'Culloch,  Barrister;  George  Birdwood,  M.D.;  Arthur 
Phelps,  Capt.,  B.  Staff  Corys  ;  M.  Edwards,  Ben.  C.S. ;  Helena  Sorter;  F.  J. 
Oliphant;  J.  H.  Champion,  Lieut. -Col.;  Fredk.  Jas.  Parsons,  B.  Staff  Corps; 
Maria  Berthon  ;  Charlotte  Webb  ;  Jeanie  Cameron  ;  Alice  Thomas  ;  R.  A. 
Elphinstone,  Major,  B.  Staff  Corps;  John  Wm.  Yorke  Fishbourne,  M.D. ; 
William  F.  Best;  Diana  J.  Walton;  G.  Boileau  Reid,  B.C.S.;  Mary  S. 
Walker;  J.  W.  Sanderson;  M.  J.  O'Kearny;  Wm.  Morland  ;  Art.  Rich- 
mond, Assist.  Surg.;  Wm.  Fuller,  Col.,  R.H.A. ;  M.  A.  Tapp  ;  E.  Edwards; 
J.  D.  Williams;  H.  A.  Williams,  Col.,  R.S.;  G.  E.  Thomas,  B.  Staff  Corps  ; 
Walter  Pains;  George  S.  Lynch,  Solicitor;  W.  Porteous,  C.S.;  F.  Stanger 
Leathes,  Solicitor;  Wm.  M.  Leckie,  Lieut. -Col.,  B.N.I. ;  J.  Bayley,  Capt., 
7th  Hussars  ;  J.  M.  G.  Bayley  ;  A.  Y.  Kennedy  ;  M.  A.  Elphinstone  ;  J.  A. 
Slater  ;  Agnes  J.  Hill  ;  Robt.  Brown,  C.  E. ;  Janet  V.  Munro  ;  W.  S.  C. 
Lockhart,  Bengal  Cavalry  ;  C.  A.  Heller  ;  C.  L.  D.  Newmarch,  Col.,  Bengal 
E. ;  A.  W.  Newmarch;  Wm.  Clonstar,  Civil  Engineer;  George  Arbuthnot, 
Capt.,  and  A.D.C. ;  L.  B.  Hallett,  Capt.,  B.  Staff  Corps  ;  W.  S.  Hallett  ;  Wm. 
B.  Preston,  Capt.,  B.  Staff  Corps  ;  Tho.  Ed.  Rodger  ;  Emily  J.  Thorn  ;  George 
M.  Huckebert  ;  Stephen  H.  M'Thrine,  C.S.;  J.  Ireland  ;  St.  Clair  Ireland  ; 
T.  S.  Ireland  ;  James  W.  Noble,  P.  and  0.  Co.;  Charles  Turner  ;  W.  Bir- 
thon,  Major,  Staff  Corps ;  Afleck  Moodie,  Barrister  ;  Annie  Best  ;  Georgina 
A.  Taylor;  Henry  S.  Kinncard  ;  J.  L.  Johnston,  C.E.;  J.  Jackson  ;  R.  T. 
Hare,  Capt.;  G.  A.  Hare  ;  A.  C.  Howden,  Civil  Engineer;  Mrs.  A.  C.  Howden." 

D. 

Copy  of  Medical  Certificate. 

"  Certified  that  we  have  carefully  examined  into  the  state  of  health  of  the  Rev. 
Norman  Macleod,  D.D.,  and  we  are  unanimously  of  opinion,  that  it  would  be  attended 
with  danger  to  his  life,  should  he  persist  in  his  intention  of  continuing  his  tour  to 
Sealkote. 


APPENDIX.  4t>y 

"  We  consider  that  ho  ought  to  leave  India  at  the  latest  on  the  3rd  March,  and  still 
then,  wo  believe  that  he  may  with  safety  visit  any  stations  which  can  be  readied  by 
rail. 


(Signed), 


"Calcutta,  8th  February,  1S68. 


"J.  Farquhar,  M.D., 

Surgeon  to  Viceroy. 
"J.  Fayer,  M.D. 
"J.  Edmonstok  Ctiarles,  M.D., 

M.R.C.P.  Lond.,  Art.  Obstet.  Prof. 


E. 

Extract  from  Address  on  Missions. 

' .  .  .  .  What,  then,  it  may  be  asked,  have  missions  done  generally  for  India?  What 
measure  of  success  have  they  had,  or  are  they  likely  to  have  ?  Or  such  questions  may  be 
summed  up  in  the  more  general  and  inclusive  one,  What  is  the  state  and  what  are  the 
prospects  of  Christianity  in  India  ? 

"In  attempting,  in  the  most  general  manuer,  to  deal  with  questions  which  demand 
volumes  instead  of  a  speech,  however  long  to  reply  to  them,  I  shall  assume  for  the 
moment  that  I  am  addressing  here,  or  through  the  reporters,  those  only  who  have 
not  thought  or  inquired  much  on  the  subject. 

"l!ecollect,  then,  that  Ave  are  speaking  of  a  country  of  enormous  extent,  with  a 
population  of  at  least  ISO, 000, 000,  the  Bengal  Presidency  alone  numbering  more  than 
the  whole  empire  of  Austria — that  this  great  country  is  occupied  by  various  races 
from  the  most  savage  to  the  most  cultivated,  having  various  religious  beliefs,  and 
speaking  languages  which  differ  from  each  other  as  much  as  Gaelic  does  from  Italian, 
most  of  them  broken  up  by  dialects  so  numerous  as  practically  to  form  probably 
twenty  separate  languages.  Remember  that  the  vast  majority  of  this  people  have  in- 
herited a  religion  and  a  civilization,  of  which  I  shall  have  to  speak  afterwards,  from 
a  vast  antiquity.  Recollect,  further,  that  the  attempt  to  impart  the  truth  and  life  of 
Christianity  to  this  great  mass  has  been  systematically  begun  by  the  Protestant 
Church  in  British  India  within  the  memory  of  living  men ;  so  that  the  age  of  our 
Scottish  missions  is  represented  by  Dr.  Duff,  who  commenced  them,  and  still  lives  to 
aid  them  in  connection  with  the  Free  Church.  Realise,  if  you  can,  the  difficulties 
which  the  missionaries  engaged  in  such  a  tremendous  enterprise  have  had  to  over- 
come in  the  ignorance  and  indifference,  even  the  opposition,  of  professing  Christians 
at  home,  and  of  timid  European  officials  abroad ;  their  want,  for  a  time,  of  the  very 
tools  and  instruments  with  which  to  conduct  their  operations  ;  their  iguorance  of  the 
language,  of  the  religious  systems,  of  the  mental  habits  and  national  idiosyncrasies  of 
the  people ;  their  want  of  a  Bible  which  could  be  used,  and  of  an  educated  people 
who  could  read  it,  and  of  any  Christian  natives  able  and  willing  to  interpret  it  to 
their  countrymen.  Eemember,  finally,  the  agencies  which  are  at  present  labouring 
in  India  before  asking  the  question  as  to  results.  There  are  in  India,  say,  in  round 
numbers,  five  hundred  European  and  American  missionaries.  You  will  notice  that 
the  members  of  this  General  Assembly,  with  those  of  the  Assembly  of  the  Free  Church 
meeting  in  our  immediate  neighbourhood,  number  more  than  the  whole  mission  staff 
in  British  India.  Yet  these  Assemblies  represent  two  churches  only  in  all  Scotland ; 
while  all  Scotland's  inhabitants  would  hardly  be  missed  out  of  one  district  of  Bengal 
alone !  Or,  let  us  put  the  proportion  of  missionaries  to  the  population  in  another 
way:  There  are  in  England  and  Scotland  about  36,000  ordained  Protestant  Clergy  of 
every  denomination,  supported  at  a  cost  of  several  millions  annually.  These  clergy 
have,  moreover,  connected  with  them  a  vast  agency,  amounting  to  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  Sunday-school  teachers,  local  missionaries,  Scripture  readers,  elders,  and 
deacons,  teachers  of  Christian  schools,  and  pious  members  of  churches,  who  are  en- 
gaged in  diffusing  a  knowledge  of  Christianity,  and  in  dispensing  its  practical  blessings 
in  ways  and  forms  innumerable.  Now,  suppose  all  this  great  agency  taken  across  the 
ocean  and  located  in  the  Presidency  of  BeDgal  alone,  leaving  all  the  rest  of  India  as  it 
is,  giving  not  one  missionary  to  the  Presidency  of  Madras  with  a  population  of  twenty- 
two  millions  ;  none  to  Bombay  or  Scindh  with  twelve  millions ;  none  to  the  North- 


470  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

West  Provinces  with  thirty  millions;  none  to  the  Punjab  with  fourteen  millions; 
none  to  Oiuih  with  eight  millions;  none  to  the  Central  Provinces  with  six  millions; 
none  to  other  districts  with  five  millions — but  giving  all  to  Bengal,  and  confining 
their  ministrations  there  to  a  population  equal  to  that  which  they  left  behind  in  all 
England  and  Scotland,  there  would  still  remain  in  that  Presidency  a  surplus  popula- 
tion of  fourteen  millions  without  a  single  missionary !  Without  presuming  to  Bolve  tho 
problem  when  that  blessed  period  is  to  arrive  in  which,  having  no  more  to  do  at  home, 
we  may  be  set  free  to  do  more  for  India,  I  wish  you  at  present  to  understand  what  is 
being  done  by  us,  along  with  other  countries,  for  the  diffusion  of  Christianity  in  the 
Eastern,  as  compared  with  this,  the  Northern,  portion  of  our  great  empire.  Now, 
assuming  as  1  do  that  the  missionaries  abroad  are  equal  to  our  missionaries — or,  what 
is  the  same  thing,  our  ministers  at  home — yet,  deducting  from  their  small  band  of  five 
hundred  men  those  who  are  advanced  in  years,  and  whose  day  is  well-nigh  done — 
those  who  are  young  and  inexperienced,  and  whose  day  is  hardly  begun — these  who 
have  not  the  gifts,  or  the  knowledge,  or  the  mental  habits,  or  the  spiritual  power 
which  is  required  for  thoroughly  effective  work — and  deducting  also,  as  I  presume  we 
must  do,  a  few  who  are  unfit  from  other  causes,  such  as  sloth  or  mere  professionalism, 
then  we  necessarily  reduce  the  number  of  such  men  as  are  able  to  cope  with  the 
gigantic  evils  and  errors  of  India — men  able  by  the  power  of  their  teaching  and  of 
their  character  to  impress  the  observant  and  thinking  natives  with  a  sense  of  the 
truth  and  glory  of  Christianity.  In  regard,  however,  to  the  moral  character  of  all 
those  missionaries,  I  rejoice  to  say  that  our  information,  derived  from  every  quarter, 
fully  realised  our  hopes  that  they  were  worthy  of  the  Churches  which  had  sent  them 
forth.  Hindoos  and  Christians,  natives  and  Europeans  of  every  rank  and  class,  were 
unanimous  in  their  hearty  testimony  upon  this  point,  and  fully  appreciated  the  un- 
selfishness of  their  motives,  the  sincerity  of  their  convictions,  their  intimate  know- 
ledge of  and  interest  in  the  natives,  and  the  wholesomeness  of  their  influence  upon 
the  whole  body  of  Indian  society.  Among  these  missionaries,  too,  there  are  some 
ever}' where  who,  as  regards  mental  power,  learning,  and  earnestness,  would  do  honor 
to  any  Church,  and  who  have  largely  contributed  to  advance  the  interests  of  social 
science,  Oriental  literature  and  history,  as  well  as  of  Christianity,  and  who  have  a 
right  to  deepest  respect,  sympathy,  and  gratitude  from  all  who  have  at  heart  the  con- 
version of  India.  It  is  gratifying  and  assuring  to  know,  also,  that  the  number  of 
missionaries  and  of  their  stations  is  steadily  on  the  increase,  while  conversions  in- 
crease in  a  still  greater  ratio. 

"I  have  not,  of  course,  spoken  here  of  the  labours  or  influence  of  chaplains  with 
reference  to  missions.  In  numerous  instances  these  have  been  very  effective,  but  they 
might  be  greater  in  many  more.  Nor  have  I  alluded  to  the  English  bishops,  who,  as 
a  rule,  Lave  been,  as  gentlemen  of  learning  and  highest  character,  an  honour  to  the 
Church  and  to  Christianity. 

"But  we  have  been  taking  into  our  calculation  the  difficulties  only  on  our  own  side, 
so  to  speak,  in  the  way  of  imparting  knowledge  to  the  natives  of  India.     Ought  we 
not  also  to  consider  the  difficulties  on  the  other  side  in  receiving  our  message?     Of 
these,  as  peculiar  to  Hindoos,  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  afterwards ;  but  here  I 
would  have  you  remember  that,  in  addition  to  the  difficulties  common  to  inert,  sloth- 
ful, prejudiced,  and  self-satisfied  people  in  every  part  of  the  world,— in  Christendom 
as  well  as  heathendom, — to  change  any  opinion,  however  erroneous  or  indefensible,  or 
any  habit,  however  foolish  or  absurd,  the  natives  of  India  generally,  among  other 
hindrances,  have  presented  to  them  for  their  acceptance  a  religion  wholly  different  in 
kind  from  all  they  or  their  fathers  ever  heard  of  or  believed  in.     It  therefore  demands 
time,  intelligence,  and  patience  to  examine  and  understand  it  even  when  preached  to 
them.     It  is  a  religion,  moreover,  which  they  have  never  seen  adequately  embodied 
or  expressed  in  its  social  aspects,  whether  of  the  church  or  the  family,  but  only  as  a 
creed;  and  this,  too,  of  a  strange  people,  whom,  as  a  rule,  they  dislike,  as  being  alien 
to  them  in  language,  in  race,  in  feelings,  and  manners,  and  who  have  conquered  and 
revolutionized  their  country  by  acts,  as  they  think,  of  cruelty,  injustice,  and  avarice. 
"But  let  us  suppose  that  the  intelligent  and  educated  Hindoo  has  been  convinced  by 
English  education  of  the  falsehood  of  his  own  religion.     I  beg  of  you  to  realize  and  to 
sympathize  with  his  difficulties  of  another  kind,  when  Christianity,  as  the  only  true 
religion,  is  presented  to  him  for  his  acceptance.     He  has  brought  his  Brahminical 
creed  and  practices,  wo  shall  assume,  under  the  light  of  reason,  conscience,  and  science, 
for  their  judgment,  and  lie  has  had  pronounced  upon  them  the  sentence  of  condemna- 
tion.    He  has  discovered  that  he  has  hitherto  believed  a  lie,  and  been  the  slave  of  a 


Al'PENDlA.  471 

degraded  or  childish  superstition.     Tint  must  lie  not  subject  this  new  religion  of  <  Uiris- 

tianity,  with  its  sacred  books,  to  the  same  scrutiny,  and  judge  of  them  by  the  same 
light?  Unquestionably  he  must;  and  so  far  a  great  point  is  gained,  and  one  most 
hopeful  to  the  accomplished  and  earnest  missionary,  when  his  teaching  is  examined 

honestly  and  sincerely  in  the  light  of  truth,  instead  of  being  judged  by  the  mere 
authority  of  custom  or  tradition.  But  such  an  investigation  necessarily  implies  a  trial 
of  the  severest  and  yet  of  the  noblest  kind,  both  to  the  inquirer  and  hi  teacher.  And 
we  need  not  be  surprised  if  the  first  and  most  general,  indeed,  1  mighl  say,  the  univer- 
sal, result  of  this  scrutiny  on  the  part  of  the  Hindoo,  should  be  the  impression  that 
Christianity,  as  a  religion  whose  characteristic  and  essential  doctrines  are  alleged  facts, 
i-i  but%nother  form  of  superstition,  with  false  miracles,  false  science,  and  false  every- 
thing, which  professes  to  belong  to  the  region  of  the  supernatural.  These  difficult  ies 
are  moreover  increased  and  intensified  by  those  schools  of  thought  which  at  pies,  nt, 
and  as  a  reaction  from  the  past,  exercise  such  an  influence  in  Europe  and  America. 
Their  views  and  opinions  are  in  every  possible  form  reproduced  in  India,  and  take  root 
the  more  readily,  owing  to  the  remarkable  inability  of  the  Hindoo  mind,  whatever  be 
its  cause,  to  weigh  historical  evidence,  and  to  appreciate  the  value  of  facts  in  their 
bearing  on  the  grounds  of  religious  belief. 

"If  to  this  is  added  the  manner  in  which  Christianity,  even  as  a  creed,  has  some- 
times, we  fear,  by  truly  Christian  men,  been  represented,  or  rather  misrepresented— 
with  its  doctrines,  if  not  falsely  put,  yet  sometimes  put  in  a  harsh,  distorted,  one- 
sided, or  exaggerated  light,  proclaimed  with  little  love,  and  defended  with  less  logic 
— we  shad  be  the  more  prepared  to  weigh  the  results  of  Christian  missions  with  some 
approximation  to  the  truth. 

"  In  so  far  as  the  results  of  missions  in  India  can  be  given  by  mere  statistics,  these 
have  been  collected  with  remarkable  care,  and  published  in  LSfi-t  by  Dr.  Mullens, 
himself  an  ahle  and  distinguished  missionary.  From  these  we  gather  that  there  are 
in  round  numbers  about  140,000  natives  in  Hindostan  professing  Christianity  ;  28,000 
in  communion  ;  with  upwards  of  900  native  churches,  which  contribute  £10,000 
annually  for  the  support  of  the  Gospel.  About  100  natives  have  been  ordained  to  the 
ministry,  while  1,300  labour  as  catechists.  Upwards  of  33,000  boys  and  8,000  girls 
receive  a  Christian  education  at  mission  schools.  As  a  means  as  well  as  a  result  of 
mission  work,  I  may  state  that  the  whole  Bible  has  been  translated  into  fourteen 
of  tiie  languages  of  India,  including  all  the  principal  tongues  of  the  empire  ;  the  New 
Testament  into  five  more  ;  and  twenty  separate  books  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament 
into  seven  more.  These  mission  agencies  are  scattered  over  all  India,  and  shine  as 
sources  of  intellectual,  moral,  and  Christian  light  amidst  the  surrounding  darkness  of 
heathenism.  Now,  surely  some  good  and  lasting  work  has  been  thus  done,  and  seed 
sown  by  these  means,  which  may  yet  spring  up  in  the  hearts  of  men. 

"  But  I  will  by  no  means  peril  the  results  of  missions  on  any  mere  statistics.  Not 
that  I  have  any  doubt  as  to  the  care  and  honesty  with  which  these  have  been  furnish- 
ed or  collected,  but  because  of  the  impossibility  of  obtaining  by  this  method  a  just 
impression  of  what  has  been  actually  accomplished  by  Christian  missions.  To  some 
they  would  seem  to  prove  too  much,  unless  the  races,  the  districts,  the  beliefs  out  of 
which  the  conversions  have  come  are  taken  into  account,  along  with  the  intelligence 
and  character  of  the  converts.  To  most  they  might  prove  less  than  they  are  capable 
of  proving,  as  they  afford  no  evidence  of  the  indirect  results  of  missions,  or  of  what  is 
being  more  and  more  effected  by  them  on  the  whole  tone  and  spirit  of  Hindoo  society, 
as  preparatory  to  deeper  and  more  extensive  ultimate  results.  Nevertheless,  the  more 
the  real  value  of  the  work  which  has  been  accomplished  is  judged  of  by  the  individual 
history  of  those  returned  as  converts,  making  every  deduction  which  can  with  fairness 
be  demanded  for  want  of  knowledge,  want  of  moral  strength,  or  want  of  influence, 
there  yet  remains  such  a  number  of  native  converts  of  intelligence  and  thorough 
sincerity,  such  a  number  of  native  Christian  clergy  of  acquirements,  mental  power,  and 
eloquence,  and  of  strength  of  convictions  and  practical  piety,  as  commands  the  respect 
of  even  educated  and  high-caste  Hindoos.  Such  facts  disprove,  at  least,  the  bold 
assertions  of  those  who  allege  that  missions  have  done  nothing  in  India.  One  fact, 
most  creditable  to  native  Christians,  ought  not  to  be  forgotten  by  us — that  of  the  two 
thousand  involved  in  the  troubles  of  the  Mutiny,  all  proved  loyal,  six  only  apostatised, 
and  even  they  afterwards  returned. 

"  But  in  estimating  the  present  condition  of  India  with  reference  to  the  probable 
overthrow  of  its  false  religions,  and  the  substitution  for  them  of  a  living  Christianity, 
we  must  look  at  India  as  a  whole.     Now,  we  are  all  aware  of  the  vast  changes  which 


472  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

have  taken  place  during  a  comparatively  recent  period  in  most  of  those  customs, 
which,  though  strictly  religious  according  to  the  views  of  the  Brahmins,  are  now  pro- 
hibited by  law,  and  have  passed,  or  are  rapidly  passing,  away  in  practice — such  as 
Suttee,  infanticide,  the  self-tortures  and  deaths  of  fanatics  at  great  idol-festivals,  &c. 
We  know,  too,  of  other  reforms  which  must  be  in  the  end  successful,  such  as  those 
affecting  the  marriage  of  widows,  polygamy,  the  education  of  females,  &c.  Such  facts 
indicate  great  changes  in  public  opinion  and  that  the  tide  of  thought  has  turned,  and 
is  slowly  but  surely  rising,  soon  to  float  off  or  immerse  all  the  idols  of  India.  In  truth, 
the  whole  intelligent  and  informed  mind  of  India,  native  and  European,  is  convinced, 
and  multitudes  within  a  wider  circle  more  than  suspect,  that,  come  what  may  in  its 
place,  idolatry  is  doomed.  The  poor  and  ignorant  millions  will  be  the  last  to  perceive 
any  such  revolution.  They  will  continue  to  visit  and  bathe  in  their  old  muddy 
stream,  as  their  ancestors  have  done  during  vast  ages,  wondering  at  first  why  those 
whom  they  have  been  taught  to  follow  as  their  religious  guides  have  left  its  banks, 
and  drink  no  more  of  its  waters,  wondering  most  of  all  when  at  last  they  discover 
these  waters  to  be  dried  up.  Others  of  a  higher  intelligence  may  endeavour  for  a 
while  to  purify  them,  or  to  give  a  symbolic  and  spiritual  meaning  to  the  very  mud 
and  filth  which  cannot  be  separated  from  them.  Men  of  greater  learning  and  finer 
spiritual  mould  will  seek  to  drink  froon  those  purer  fountains  that  bubble  up  in  the 
distant  heights  of  their  own  Vedas,  at  the  water-shed  of  so  many  holy  streams,  and 
ere  these  have  become  contaminated  with  the  more  earthly  mixtures  of 'the  lower 
valleys.  But  all  are  doomed.  For  neither  the  filthy  and  symbolic  stream  of  the 
Puranas,  nor  the  purer  fountain  of  the  Vedas  alone,  can  satisfy  the  thirst  of  the  heart 
of  man,  more  especially  when  it  has  once  tasted  the  waters  of  life  as  brought  to  us  by 
Jesus  Christ  :  or,  to  change  the  simile,  although  the  transition  between  the  old  and 
new  may  be  a  wide  expanse  of  desert  filled  up  with  strange  mirages,  fantastic  forms, 
and  barren  wastes,  yet  whether  this  generation  or  another  may  reach  the  Land  of 
Promise  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,  the  people  must  now  leave  Egypt  with  its  idols, 
and  in  spite  of  murmurings,  regrets,  and  rebellions,  can  return  to  it  no  more. 

"When  I  thus  speak  of  the  destruction  of  Hindooism,  I  am  far  from  attributing 
this  result  solely  to  the  efforts  of  missionaries,  though  these  have  not  only  taken  a 
most  worthy  share  in  the  work  of  destruction,  but  have  also  laboured  at  the  more 
difficult  and  more  important  work  of  construction.  The  whole  varied  and  combined 
forces  of  Western  civilisation  must  be  taken  into  account.  The  indomitable  power  of 
England,  with  the  extension  of  its  government  and  the  justice  of  its  administration, 
has,  in  spite  of  every  drawback  that  can  be  charged  against  it,  largely  contributed  to 
this  result.  So  also,  in  their  own  way,  have  railroads  and  telegraphs,  helping  to  unite 
even  outwardly  the  people  and  the  several  parts  of  India  to  each  other,  and  all  to 
Europe.  The  light  which  has  been  shed  by  the  Oriental  scholars  of  Europe  upon  the 
sacred  books  and  ancient  literature  of  the  Hindoos,  has  been  an  incalculable  advantage 
to  the  missionary,  and  to  all  who  wish  to  understand  and  to  instruct  the  people  of 
India.  But  nothing  has  so  directly  and  rapidly  told  upon  their  intellectual  and  moral 
history  as  the  education  which  they  owe  solely  to  European  wisdom  and  energy.  The 
wave-line  which  marks  its  flow,  marks  also  the  ebb  of  idolatry.  This  influence  will 
be  more  easily  appreciated  when  it  is  remembered  that  3,089,000  Hindoos  and  about 
90,000  Mohammedans  attend  Government  schools,  and  upwards  of  40,000  of  these 
attend  schools  which  educate  up  to  a  University  entrance  standard,  in  which  English 
is  a  branch  of  examination.  These  schools  have  been  found  fault  with  because  they 
do  not  directly  teach  religion.  It  has  been  said  that  they  practically  make  all  their 
pupils  mere  Deists.  But  apart  from  the  difficulties  which  attend  any  attempt  on  the 
part  of  Government  to  do  more,  even  were  it  to  assume  the  grave  responsibility  of  de- 
termining what  system  of  theology  should  be  taught,  and  of  selecting  the  men  to  teach 
it,  yet  surely  Deism  is  a  great  advance  on  Hindooism.  If  a  man  occupies  a  position 
half-way  between  the  valley  and  the  mountain-top,  that  alone  cannot  determine 
whether  he  is  ascending  or  descending.  We  must  know  the  point  from  which  he  has 
started  on  his  journey.  Thus  departing  from  the  low  level  of  the  Puranas,  it  seems  to 
me  that  the  Hindoo  pupil  who  has  reached  the  Theism  of  even  the  Vedas  only,  has 
ascended  towards  the  purer  and  far-seeing  heights  of  Christian  revelation.  Anyhow, 
the  fact  is  certain,  whatever  be  the  ultimate  results,  that  education  itself,  which  opens 
up  a  new  world  to  the  native  eye,  has  destroyed  his  old  world  as  a  system  of  religious 
belief. 

"I  know  few  things,  indeed,  which  strike  one  more  who  for  the  first  time  comes 
into  contact  with  an  educated  native,  than  hearing  him  converse  in  the  purest  English 


APPENDIX  473 

on  subjects  and  in  a  manner  which  are  associated,  not  with  oriental  dress  and  features, 
but  with  all  that  is  cultivated  and  refined  at  home.  You  fee  1  at  once  that  here  at 
least  ia  a  way  opened  up  for  communication  by  the  mighty  power  of  a  common  lan- 
guage, and  of  a  mind  so  trained  and  taught  as  to  be  able  thoroughly  to  comprehend 
and  discuss  all  we  wish  to  teach  or  explain.  The  traveller  sometimes  accidentally 
meets  with  other  evidences  of  the  silent  but  effective  influences  of  English  education. 
I  remember,  for  example,  visiting  with  my  friend  a  heathen  temple  in  Southern  India. 
It  was  a  great  day,  on  which  festive  crowds  had  assembled  to  do  honour  to  a  famous 
Guru.  There  were  some  thousands  within  and  without  the  temple.  While  seeking 
to  obtain  an  entrance,  we  were  surrounded  by  an  eager  and  inquisitive  crowd,  but 
civil  and  courteous,  as  we  ever  found  the  natives  to  be.  Soon  we  were  addressed  in 
good  English  by  a  native,  and  then  by  about  a  dozen  more  who  were  taking  part  in  the 
ceremonies  of  the  place.  After  some  conversation  I  asked  them,  the  crowd  beyond 
this  inner  circle  listening  to  but  not  comprehending  us,  whether  they  believed  in  all 
this  idolatry?  One,  speaking  for  the  rest,  said,  'We  do.'  But  from  his  smile,  and 
knowing  the  effects  of  such  education  as  he  had  evidently  acquired,  I  said  kindly  to 
him,  'My  friend,  I  candidly  tell  you,  that  I  don't  think  you  believe  a  bit  of  it.'  He  laugh- 
ed, and  said,  'You  are  right,  sir,  we  believe  nothing !'  'What?'  I  asked;  'nothing? 
not  even  your  own  existence  ?'  'Oh  yes,  we  believe  that,'  he  replied.  '  And  no  exis- 
tence higher  than  your  own?'  I  continued  to  inquire.  'Yes,'  he  said,  'we  believe  in 
a  great  God  who  has  created  all  things.'  'But  if  so,  why  then  this  idolatry?'  I  asked 
again.  'We  wish  to  honour  our  fathers,'  said  another  of  the  group  to  my  question. 
On  which  the  first  speaker  addressed  his  countryman,  saying,  '  What  did  your  fathers 
ever  do  for  you  ?  Did  they  give  you  the  steam-engine,  or  the  railway,  or  the  tele- 
graph ?'  Then  turning  to  me,  he  said,  with  a  smile,  'Though  we  must  keep  up  and 
cannot  forsake  these  national  customs  while  they  exist  in  our  country,  and  our  people 
believe  in  them,  yet,  if  you  educate  the  people,  they  will  give  them  up  of  themselves, 
and  so  they  will  pass  away.'  Whatever  may  have  been  the  intention  of  the  speaker, 
I  believe  this  conversation  gives  a  fair  impression,  not  of  the  deepest  and  most  earnest 
minds  in  Hindostan,  but  of  the  mind  of  the  ordinary  pupil  who  has  received  an  Eng- 
lish education,  though  little  more.  It  is  thus,  however,  that  all  things  are  working 
together  for  the  ultimate  conversion  of  India  to  the  truth  and  life  of  Christianity  under 
Him  who  is  the  Head  of  all  things  to  His  Church. 

"In  endeavouring  to  sketch,  however  rapidly  and  imperfectly,  the  general  results 
of  all  the  combined  forces  I  have  alluded  to,  I  must  notomit  to  notice  the  religious  school 
of  the  Brahmo  Somaj.  The  educated  and  more  enlightened  Hindoos  occupy  almost 
every  position  of  religious  belief  between  that  of  a  little  less  than  pure  Brahmanism 
and  a  little  less  than  pure  Christianity.  Some  defend  idolatry  as  being  a  mere  out- 
ward symbolic  worship  of  the  One  God  everywhere  the  same,  and  also  as  a  national 
custom ;  and,  without  opposing  Christianity,  they  would  have  it  remain  as  one  of 
many  other  religions,  asking,  as  has  been  done  indignantly  and  in  the  name  of 
'Christianity  which  preaches  love  to  one's  enemies,'  'Why  should  the  God  of  Jesus 
Christ  be  at  daggers-drawing  with  the  gods  of  heathendom  ?'  Others  are  more  en- 
lightened and  more  sincere.  Of  these,  the  greatest  undoubtedly  was  the  late  Bajah 
Kammohun  Roy,  one  of  the  most  learned  and  accomplished  men  in  India.  In  order 
to  obtain  a  religion  at  once  true  and  national,  he  fell  back  on  the  Vedas  as  embodying 
a  pure  Monotheism,  rejecting  at  the  same  time  the  authority  of  all  later  Hindoo  books, 
however  venerable,  from  the  heroic  Mahabharat  and  Eamayana  down  to  the  Puranas. 
He  did  not,  however,  despise  or  reject  the  New  Testament,  but  gathered  from  it  and 
published  'The  Precepts  of  Jesus,  the  Guide  to  Happiness.'  He  called  his  Church, — 
for  his  followers  were  organised  into  a  society  which  met  for  worship, — '  The  Brahmo' 
(the  neuter  impersonal  name  for  the  supreme)  '  Shabha,' now  changed  into  'Somaj,' 
or  assembly.  The  position  thus  occupied  by  the  Bajah  is  yet  to  a  large  extent  main- 
tained by  the  representatives  of  the  old  Hindoo  Conservative  party,  whether  their 
Church  is  called  the  'Veda  Somaj,'  or  '  Prathana  Somaj.'  But  the  Vedas  having 
been  found  untenable  by  others,  as  tending  necessarily  to  pure  Pantheism,  a  religious 
system  with  better  foundations  was  accordingly  sought  for,  and  after  in  vain  endea- 
vouring to  discover  it  in  '  Nature,'  or  to  evolve  it  from  '  Intuition,'  the  new  movement 
has,  under  the  guidance  of  Keshub  Chunder  Sen,  approached  Christianity.  After 
having  heard  that  distinguished  man  preach,  and  having  seen  the  response  given  to  his 
teaching  by  his  splendid  audience,  numbering  the  most  enlightened  natives  as  well  as 
Europeans  in  Calcutta,  and  after  having  had  a  very  pleasing  conversation  with  him,  1 
cannot  but  indulge  the  hope,  from  his  sincerity,  his  earnestness,  as  well  as  from  hi.< 


474  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

logic,  that  in  the  end  he  will  be  led  to  accept  the  whole  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  But 
of  one  tiling  I  feel  profoundly  convinced,  that  the  Brahma  Souiaj,  which  numbers 
thousands  of  adherents,  is  to  be  attributed  indirectly  to  the  teaching  and  labours  of 
Christian  missionaries  ;  and  its  existence,  in  spite  of  all  I  have  read  and  heard  against 
it,  brightens  my  hopes  of  India's  future. 

"  I  would  here  remind  of  facts  in  the  history  of  the  Church  in  past  ages  as  worthy 
of  being  remembered,  in  order  to  modify  the  eager  desires  of  the  too  sanguine  as  to 
immediate  results,  and  to  cheer  the  hopes  of  the  too  desponding  as  to  future  results, 
as  well  as  to  check  the  rash  conclusions  of  those  who,  arguing  from  the  past 
history  of  a  few  3rcars,  prophesy  no  results  at  all  in  the  ages  to  come.  As 
signs  of  the  progress  of  that  religion  which,  through  the  seed  of  Abraham,  was 
in  the  end  to  bless,  and  is  now  blessing  all  nations,  what  conversions,  let  me 
ask,  were  made  from  the  days  of  Abraham  to  the  Exodus  ?  How  many  during 
the  long  night  in  Egypt  ?  Yet,  each  of  these  intervals  represents  a  period  as  long  as 
what  separates  us  from  the  day  when  the  first  Englishman  visited  the  shores  of 
India,  or  when  the  Church  sprang  into  renewed  life  at  the  Reformation.  What,  again, 
of  results  during  the  brief  period,  yet  so  full  of  teaching,  under  Moses,  accompanied 
by  such  mighty  signs  and  wonders,  when  the  Church  was  in  the  wilderness  ?  Why,  on 
entering  the  land  of  promise,  two  men  only  represented  the  faith  of  all  who  had  left 
idolatrous  Egypt  ?  And  yet,  when  it  looked  as  if  all  was  lost,  God  spake  these  words, 
*  As  truly  as  I  live,  all  the  earth  shall  be  filled  with  the  glory  of  the  Lord.'  Recollect, 
too,  what  long  periods  of  confusion  and  darkness  followed  the  settlement  of  the  tribes 
in  Palestine.  The  experiment,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  seemed  to  have  utterly  failed  or 
educating  a  peculiar  people,  and  so  preparing  it  for  the  ulterior  work  of  converting  the 
world.  That  chosc-n  race  ended  in  captivity  in  the  country  from  whence  Abraham,  its 
father,  began  in  faith,  his  journey  fourteen  centuries  before.  Nevertheless,  that  race 
did  its  work  at  last !  The  first  forms  of  its  religious  faith  yet  live,  being  cleansed 
from  all  idolatry  since  the  time  of  the  Captivity,  but  since  that  time  only;  and 
Christianity,  as  its  flower  and  fruit,  lives,  and,  after  marvellous  and  strange 
vicissitudes,  is  grown  into  a  mighty  tree  whose  leaves  are  for  the  healing  of  the  na- 
tions, and  which  is  destined  to  be  the  one  tree  of  life  for  the  whole  world.  And  so 
this  feature  in  history  constantly  repeats  itself — a  time  of  activity  and  repose,  of 
winter  and  summer,  of  sleep  and  waking,  of  death  and  resurrection  ;  a  time  of  long 
and  varied  preparations,  with  not  unfrequently  very  rapid  fulfilments,  like  sudden  out- 
bursts of  a  long-seething  flood,  or  volcano  ;  while  these  fulfilments  become  again 
beginnings  of  a  new  and  as  varied  a  course  in  history,  ever  accumulating  blessings  for 
the  whole  family  of  man. 

"Having  thus  spoken  generally  of  missions  in  India  and  their  results,  I  must  pro- 
ceed more  particularly  to  the  consideration  of  the  various  methods  adopted  by  mis- 
sionaries for  Christianising  the  Hindoos. 

"  But,  before  we  can  reply  satisfactorily  to  the  question  regarding  means,  we  must 
first  have  a  still  clearer  apprehension  of  the  nature  of  the  end  to  be  attained  by  them, 
involving  some  knowledge  of  the  Hindoo  religion  as  a  system  of  belief  and  of  social 
life.  If  we  do  so,  we  shall  soon  learn  that  we  cannot,  as  is  too  often  done,  class 
Hindoos  with  other  heathens  (whether  in  India  or  beyond  its  shores),  nor  argue  from 
what  has  been  done  by  this  or  that  instrumentality  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,  for  ex- 
ample, or  in  Africa,  Burmah,  or  even  Tinnevelly,  that  the  same  instrumentality  will 
necessarily  be  as  effectual  in  Calcutta  or  Benares.  It  is  admitted,  of  course,  that 
among  all  races  and  in  all  countries  the  Truth,  as  revealed  by  Jesus  Christ,  is  the  one 
grand  means  of  Christianising  them  ;  but  the  practical  question  before  us  is,  What  is 
the  best  way  of  communicating  this  truth  in  certain  given  circumstances  ?  Now,  to 
obtain  the  true  answer  to  this  question  necessitates  other  questions  regarding  the 
character,  habits,  and  beliefs  of  the  people  we  have  to  deal  with,  and  regarding  those 
peculiar  circumstances,  within  and  without,  in  which  they  are  placed,  which  m " 
materially  affect  their  reception  of  Christian  doctrine  and  life. 

"  With  the  risk,  therefore,  of  repeating  to  some  extent  what,  as  bearing  on  other 
parts  of  my  subject,  I  have  already  alluded  to,  let  me  direct  your  attention  more  par- 
ticularly and  more  fully  than  I  have  yet  done  to  some  of  those  characteristics  of  the 
Hindoos  which  distinguish  them  from  every  other  people  in  India  or  in  the  world. 
Observe,  in  the  first  place,  that  they  are  a  distinct  race.  I  have  already  said  that 
various  races  make  up  the  population  of  the  great  continent  of  Hindostan.  The 
Hindoo  belongs  to  that  Indo-Germanic  or  Aryan  stream  of  which  we  ourselves  are  a 
branch,  and  which  hr.s  flowed  over  the  world.     It  entered  India  from  the  north-west, 


A  IT  EM)  IX.  47: 

and  advanced,  during  long  ages  of  the  fur  past,  toward,  [\  plains.     Tl  found 

there  other  and  older  races,  who  cither  fled  to  the  I in  tains  an  i 

their  freedom,  or  were  conquered  and  degraded  into  I         1     or  Pariah  .  v.  thou 
or  social  position.     These  Aryans,  like  a  lava  flood,  poured  them  elves  ovei  thelai 
breaking  through  the  older  formations,  overlying  them  0%  surrounding  them,    I 
never  utterly  obliterating  or  absorbing  them.     Now  it  is  nob  with   those  aboriginal 
races — who,  though  probably  once  possessing  a  higher  civilization,  are  now  com 
tive  savages,  and  nave  religions  peculiar  to  them     lv        ucb  as  the  Bh eels,   Khow 
Santals,  Coles,  &c. — that  we  have  at  present  to  do  ;  nor  yet  with  races  of  low  - 
no  caste,  like  the  Shanars  of  Tinnevelly,  the  Mairs  of  Ahmednugger,  or  the  lower 
population  still  of  Chamba.     But  it  is  of  this  Hindoo  race,  whose  religion  is  Brahinin- 
ism,  and  which,  above  all  others,  constitute  the  people  of  India,  numbering  about  a 
hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  its  inhabitants — it  is  of  them  only  I  at  present  speak  ; 
for  if  they  were  Christianised,  India  practically  would  be  so,    but   not   otherwise. 
That  lofty,  unbending  portion  of  the  community,    the    Mohammedan,    numbering 
twenty  millions,  is  not  within  the  scope  of  my  present  argument. 

"Secondly,  we  must  not  forget  that  this  Hindoo  people  represent  a  remarkable 
civilisation,  which  they  have  inherited  from  a  time  when  earth  was  young.  They 
possess  a  language  (the  Sanscrit,  the  earliest  cultivated)  which  scholars  tell  us  is  the 
fullest,  the  most  flexible  and  musical  in  existence,  to  which  Greek,  although  its  child, 
is  immensely  inferior  ;  which  is  capable,  as  no  other  is,  of  expressing  the  subtlest 
thoughts  of  the  metaphysician,  and  the  most  shadowy  and  transient  gleams  of  the 
poet.  In  that  language  the  Hindoos  produced  a  heroic  and  philosophic  poetry  cen- 
turies before  the  Christian  era,  which  even  now  holds  a  foremost  place  in  the  literature 
of  the  world.  It  has  been  asserted — I  know  not  on  what  authority — that  they  were 
proficient  in  astronomy  long  ere  its  very  name  was  mentioned  by  the  Greeks  ; 
and  that  in  comparatively  recent  times  they  solved  problems  in  algebra  which  not 
until  centuries  afterwards  dawned  on  the  acutest  minds  of  modern  Europe.  When 
we  add  to  this  a  structure  of  society — to  which  I  shall  immediately  allude — so  com- 
pact as  to  have  held  together  for  more  than  two  thousand  years,  we  must  feel  admira- 
tion, if  not  for  their  physical,  at  least  for  their  intellectual  powers,  and  acknowledge 
that  we  have  here  no  rude  or  savage  people,  but  a  highly  cultivated  and  deeply  inter- 
esting portion  of  the  human  family. 

"Thirdly,  we  must  consider  the  religion  of  the  Hindoos,  both  as  a  creed  and  as  a 
social  system,  with  its  e fleets  on  their  general  temperament  and  habits  of  life. 

"The  Hindoo  religion,  like  Judaism  and  Christianity,  is  one  which  has  survived 
the  revolutions  of  long  ages.  The  religions  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  of  the  Egyp- 
tians, Phoenicians,  and  Assyrians,  with  many  others,  are  to  us  as  fossils  of  a  dead 
world.  Hindooism,  older  than  these,  still  exists  as  a  power  affecting  the  destinies  of 
teeming  millions.  We  can  gaze  upon  it  as  a  living  specimen  of  one  out  of  many  of  the 
monster  forms  which  once  inhabited  the  globe.  Unlike  all  those  extinct  religions,  it 
has  its  sacred  books,  and  I  doubt  not  that  to  this  written  word  it  greatly  owes  its  pre- 
servation. These  books  have  been  written  at  intervals  representing  vast  periods  of 
history.  The  Vedas,  at  once  the  most  ancient  and  the  most  pure  and  lofty,  date  as 
far  back,  possibly,  as  the  time  of  Moses,  and  contain  many  true  and  sublime  ideas  of 
a  Divine  Being  without  any  trace  of  the  peculiarities  of  Brahmanism — nay,  declaring 
positively  that  '  there  is  no  distinction  of  castes.'  The  great  collection  of  the  Pur- 
anas  was  compiled  in  the  middle  ages  of  our  era,  and  forms  the  real  everyday  '  Bible' 
of  the  everyday  religion  of  Hindoos,  the  Vedas  being  now  known  to  and  read  by  only 
a  few  learned  pundits,  and  having  from  the  first  been  a  forbidden  book  to  all  except 
the  priesthood.  Now,  these  Puranas  are  one  mass  of  follies  and  immoralities,  of 
dreaming  pantheism,  of  degrading  and  disgusting  idolatry. 

"  Mr.  Wheeler,  in  his  recently  published  volume,  the  first  of  his  '  History  of  India,' 
thus  writes  of  the  great  epics  of  Maha  Bharata,  or  the  great  war  of  Bharata,  and  the 
Ramayano,  or  'Adventures  of  Rama,'  with  their  present  influence  on  the  Hindoos.  It 
is  his  opinion,  I  may  state,  that  while  the  events  recorded  in  these  epics  belong  to  the 
Vedic  period,  their  composition  belongs  to  the  Brahinanic  age,  when  caste  was  intro- 
duced, a  new  religion  established,  and  the  Brahmans  had  formed  themselves  into  a 
powerful  ecclesiastical  hierarchy,  and  when,  instead  of  the  old  Vedic  gods  and  forms 
of  faith,  Brahma,  Vishnu,  and  Siva  took  their  place.  These  epics  are,  practically,  to 
the  Hindoos,  religious  poems,  and  consequently  arc  the  most  powerful  and  popular 
props  to  Brahmanism.  'Few  Hindoos,'  writes  Mr.  Wheeler,  'may  perhaps  be  ac- 
quainted with  the  whole  of  these  epics,  and  none  have  ventured  to  subject  them  to  a 


476  LIFE  OF  NORM  AN  MACLEOD. 

critical  analysis  ami  investigation  ;  yet  their  influence  upon  the  masses  of  the  people 
is  beyond  calculation,  and  infinitely  greater  and  more  universal  than  the  influence  of 
Bible  over  modern  Em-ope.  The  leading  incidents  and  scenes  are  familiar  to  the 
Hindoos  from  childhood.  They  are  frequently  represented  at  village  festivals,  whilst 
the  stories  are  chanted  about  at  almost  every  social  gathering,  and  indeed  form  the 
leading  topic  of  conversation  amongst  Hindoos  generally,  and  especially  amongst  those 
who  have  passed  the  meridian  of  life.  In  a  word,  these  poems  are  to  the  Hindoos  all 
that  the  Library,  the  Newspaper,  and  the  Bible  are  to  the  European  ;  whilst  the  books 
themselves  are  regarded  with  a  superstitious  reverence,  which  far  exceeds  that  which 
has  ever  been  accorded  to  any  other  revelation  real  or  supposed.  To  this  clay  it  is  the 
common  belief  that  to  peruse  or  merely  to  listen  to  the  perusal  of  the  Maha  Bharata 
or  Ramayana,  will  insure  prosperity  in  this  world  and  eternal  happiness  hereafter.' 
Now,  making  every  allowance  for  (what  appears  to  me  to  be)  the  exaggerated  terms 
in  which  Mr.  Wheeler  describes  the  comparative  influence  of  the  Bible  and  these 
'Scriptures,'  there  can  be  no  doubt  that,  as  far  as  India  is  concerned,  he  is  correct. 

"This  religion,  as  embodied  in  its  Sacred  Books,  affords  the  widest  scope  for  the 
indulgence  of  every  phase  of  human  thought,  sentiment,  and  passion  ;  furnishing  as 
it  does  in  the  Vedic  hymns  and  poetry  an  atmosphere  so  rare,  and  presenting  such 
shadowy  heights  of  speculation,  as  to  tempt  the  most  ambitious  wing  to  put  forth  its 
powers  to  gain  their  summits  ;  and  furnishing  in  the  Puranas  the  vdest  mire,  where 
the  filthiest  and  most  obscene  may  wallow.  Among  its  disciples,  the  dreamy  ascetic, 
labouring  to  emancipate  his  spiiit  by  pure  meditation  and  the  destruction  of  the 
material  flesh,  and  the  profound  scholar,  rare  though  he  be,  nourishing  his  intellectual 
life  by  the  abstract  themes  and  endless  speculative  questions  suggested  by  his  creed, 
may  meet  with  the  disgusting  faqueer  or  yogi,  with  the  ignorant  millions  who  care  for 
nothing  but  a  round  of  dead  superstitious  observances,  or  with  the  cunning  or  depraved 
crew  who  indulge  in  the  vilest  practices  as  the  natural  results  of  their  heathen  prin- 
ciples. 

'•  Lastly,  it  is  in  its  social  aspects,  as  already  hinted,  that  Brahmapism  manifests 
its  intense,  comprehensive,  and  tyrannous  power.  Its  system  of  caste  presents  to  us 
a  feature  in  the  organization  of  human  beings  unparalleled  in  history.  It  must  not  be 
mistaken  for  a  mere  aristocratic  arrangement,  as  accidantal  to  or  lying  outside  of 
Brahmanism,  but  it  is  an  essential  element  of  its  very  being.  It  is  quite  true,  as  I 
have  said,  and  the  fact  is  of  importance,  that  the  Vedas  know  nothing  of  it  ;  but  then 
the  people  know  not  the  Vedas,  and  those  who  do  conceal  or  pervert  their  teach- 
ing. According  to  the  existing  and,  as  long  as  Brahmanism  lives,  unalterable  belief 
of  the  people,  the  streams  of  caste,  flowing  side  by  side  but  never  mingling,  are  traced 
up  to  the  very  fountain  of  Deity  ;  or,  to  change  the  simile,  each  great  caste  is  believed 
to  be  a  development  of  the  very  body  of  Brahma  the  Creator,  and  is  mystically  united 
to  him  as  parts  of  his  very  flesh  and  bones.  Hence  no  one  can  become  a  Hindoo  in 
religion  who  is  not  one  by  birth  ;  nor  can  any  member  belonging  to  this  divine  body 
break  his  caste  without  therefore  becoming  dead,  as  a  limb  amputated  from  living  com- 
munion with  the  source  of  life,  and  therefor  be  thrown  away  as  a  curse,  a  reproach — 
a  polluted,  horrible  thing,  to  be  hated  and  disowned.  Marvellous,  indeed,  are  the 
power  and  endurance  of  such  an  organization  as  this,  that  can  dominate  over  all 
those  political  and  social  changes  which,  in  other  respects  alter  the  relative  position 
of  its  possessors  as  to  wealth  or  rank,  whether  in  the  army  or  in  the  civil  service. 

"But  Brahmanism  does  more  than  make  each  man  a  member  of  this  compact  mass. 
Having  fixed  him  there,  it  holds  him  fast,  and  governs  him  as  a  mere  thing  in  which 
no  personality,  and  consequently  no  will,  is  recognised,  save  that  measure  which  is 
required  to  consent  to  the  destruction  of  his  being,  or  its  subordination,  at  least,  to  a 
system  of  mechanical  rules  that  fashion  his  whole  inward  and  outward  life.  As  far 
almost  as  it  is  possible  to  conceive,  that  life  is  in  everything  and  every  day  the 
obedient  slave  of  '  religion  ;'  not,  of  course,  in  the  sense  which  we  attach  to  the  ex- 
pression— that  of  all  things  being  done,  endured,  or  enjoyed  in  a  right  spirit,  or  ac- 
cording to  the  rule  of  eternal  righteousness  towards  God  and  man — but  according  to 
fixed  authoritative  rules,  professing  to  embrace  the  whole  life,  obedience  to  which  is 
as  mechanical  as  can  be  yielded  by  a  human  being.  Eor  to  the  religious  Hindoo  all 
that  is  to  be  believed  and  done  on  earth  is  revealed,  and  as  such  is  obligatory.  All 
the  arts  and  sciences  ;  the  methods  of  every  trade  ;  the  manifold  duties  incumbent  on 
the  architect,  the  mason,  the  carpenter,  or  the  musician,  and  on  the  member  of  the 
family  or  community — what  ought  to  be  done  upon  ordinary  days  and  on  holy  days  ; 
in  youth,  in  manhood,  and  in  old  age  ;  in  health  and  sickness,  and  in  the  hour  of 


APPENDIX  ATI 

death  ;  and  what  ought  tn  be  done  for  th.086  who  arc  dead.  Rlllea  arc  prescribed  to 
him  as  a  sinner  or  a  saint,  in  joy  or  in  Borrow;  directing  him  how  to -art  to- 
wards superiors,  inferiors,  and  equals  ;  towards  priests  and  princes  ;  towards  all  men 
on  earth,  and  towards  all  the  gods  on  earth  and  in  the  heavens.  No  polype,  in  the 
vasl  gelatinous  mass  which  contributes  to  the  building  up  of  a  great  island  from  the 
deep,  ran  lie  more  apart  of  that  mysterious  whole  than  an  orthodox  Hindoo  is  of  tins 
marvellous  religious  brotherhood.  1  lis  individuality  is  lost.  His  conscience,  will, 
and  affections  are  in  the  strong  grasp  of  habits  and  customs  sanctioned  l>y  Divine  au- 
thority, consecrated  by  the  faith  of  his  race,  and  made  venerable  by  a  hoary  antiquity. 
And,  what  might  seem  very  strange  to  us  if  we  could  not  point  to  parallel  phases 
of  human  nature  within  even  the  Church  of  Christ,  this  slavery  is  not  disliked  or  felt 
to  be  a  heavy  burden — a  '  bondage  to  the  elements  of  the  world ' — but,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  clung  to  with  a  desperate  tenacity.  The  elements  which  give  this  undying 
vigour  to  caste  may  possibly  be  found  not  chiefly  in  sloth  and  indifference,  or  in  the 
supposed  deliverance  which  it  affords  from  the  irksome  sense  of  personal  responsibi- 
lity, but  in  its  recognition  of  two  great  principles  in  social  life,  which,  though  in  this 
case  perverted,  are  adjusted  by  the  Christian  creed  and  a  true  Christian  Church  ;  the 
first,  that  our  place  in  the  world  is  assigned  to  us  by  Divine  sovereignty ;  and  the 
second,  that  the  co-operation  and  sympathy  of  a  brotherhood  are  essential  to  our  use- 
fulness and  happiness  in  the  world.  AVhatever  be  the  secret  of  its  strength,  it  is  pro- 
foundly interesting  to  gaze  on  this  gigantic  system  existing  like  the  Great  Pyramid — 
each  stone  in  its  place,  firmly  cemented  into  the  vast  whole,  towering  over  the  arid 
plain,  defying  hitherto  the  attacks  of  time,  which  destroys  all  that  is  perishable — an 
object  of  wonder  because  of  its  magnitude  and  power  of  endurance,  yet  hollow-hearted 
withal,  and  preserving  only  the  dust  of  ages. 

"  And  yet  even  this  tremendous  system  of  caste  is  not  wdiolly  antagonistic  to  the 
efforts  of  the  Christian  Church.  Its  very  strength  may  at  last  prove  its  weakness. 
If  on  the  side  of  wrong  it  '  moveth  all  together  if  it  move  at  all,'  it  may  do  so  also  on 
the  side  of  right.  Let  the  wall  be  so  far  sapped  that  it  must  fall,  it  will  do  so  not  by 
crumbling  down  in  minute  fragments,  or  even  in  separate  masses,  but  as  a  whole. 
If  the  great  army  mutinies  against  Biahmanism,  it  Mill  desert,  not  in  units,  but  en 
masse. 

"It  is  with  this  system  that  we  have  in  the  meantime  to  deal  ;  and  it  may  well 
nerve  a  Christian's  courage,  and  make  him  examine  his  weapons,  test  his  armour,  and 
carefully  calculate  his  resources  of  power  and  patience,  of  faith  and  love,  ere  he 
enters,  with  a  zeal  which  can  be  vindicated  and  a  hope  that  will  not  be  put  to  shame, 
on  the  grand  enterprise  of  substituting  pure  Christianity  in  its  place.  I  hesitate  not 
to  express  the  opinion  that  no  such  battle  has  ever  before  been  given  to  the  Church 
of  God  to  fight  since  history  began,  and  that  no  victory  if  gained,  will  be  followed  by 
greater  consequences.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  the  spiritual  conquest  of  India  was  a 
work  reserved  for  these  latter  days  to  accomplish,  because  requiring  all  the  previous 
dear-bought  experiences  of  the  Church,  and  all  the  preliminary  education  of  the 
world,  and  that,  when  accomplished — as  by  the  help  of  the  living  Christ  it  shall  ! — 
it  will  be  a  very  Armageddon  ;  the  last  great  battle  against  every  form  of  unbelief, 
the  last  fortress  of  the  enemy  stormed,  the  last  victory  gained  as  necessary  to  secure 
the  unimpeded  progress  and  the  final  triumph  of  the  world's  regeneration  ! 

"  In  these  statements  regarding  Brahraanism  I  have  said  nothing  of  its  effects  upon 
the  morals  of  the  people,  although  this  is  a  most  important  aspect  of  it,  not  only  as 
producing  habits  congenial  to  human  depravity,  but  as  raising  the  most  formidable 
obstacles  against  the  reception  of  Christianity  even  as  a  pure  and  uncompromising 
system  of  morals.  Not  that  we  would  charge  the  actual  vices  of  a  people  to  their 
religion,  unless,  as  in  the  case  before  us,  these  could  be  proved  to  be  the  necessary 
and  legitimate  consequences  of  faith  in  its  teaching,  and  of  obedience  to  its  enjoined 
observances  and  practices.  As  far,  indeed,  as  the  observation  of  the  ordinary  traveller 
goes,  I  am  bound  to  say,  as  the  result  of  our  own  very  limited  experience,  that  nothing 
meets  the  eye  or  ear  in  any  way  offensive  to  good  manners  throughout  India,  not  even 
in  its  temples,  unless  it  be  in  symbols  for  worship  to  which  I  cannot  allude,  and  the 
influence  of  which  on  the  worshippers  it  is  difficult  for  any  stranger  to  determine,  not 
knowing  even  how  far  their  significance  is  understood  by  the  multitude.  I  must 
therefore  refer  to  others  better  acquainted  with  India  to  say  what  its  moral  condition 
is  as  flowing  positively  from  its  religion.  But  I  have  no  doubt  whatever  myself,  from  all 
I  have  heard,  that,  exceptwhere  affected  by  European  influence,  it  is,  among  both  Hindoo 
and  Mahommedans,  as  a  rule,  far  below  what  is  generally  supposed.     In  spite  of  that 


473  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

amount  of  morality,  and  the  play  of  those  affections  among  friends  and  the  members 
of  the  family,  without  which  society  could  not  hang  together  ;  and  while  I  refuse  to 
believe  that  there  are  not  among  such  a  mass  of  human  beings,  some  true  light  and 
life  received  from  Him  who  is  the  Father  of  light,  in  ways  we  wot  not  of  and  may 
never  discover  ;  yet  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  description  of  heathendom  as  existing 
in  the  latter  peiiod  of  Roman  life,  and  as  described  by  St.  Paul  in  the  beginning  of 
his  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  is  true  to  a  fearful  extent  of  India.  Facts,  besides,  have 
come  out  in  trials  showing  how  'religion,'  so  called,  may  become  the  source  of  the 
most  hideous  abominations,  for  which  it  is  righteously  chargeable.  Immortal  man  is 
seldom  so  degraded  as  not  to  seek  some  apparently  good  reason,  .and  in  the  holy 
name  of  'religion'  too,  for  doing  the  worst  things.  Thus  the  Thug  strangles  his 
victim  as  he  prays  to  the  goddess  of  mimler  ;  and  the  member  of  a  hereditary  band 
of  robbers  consecrates  his  services  to  the  goddess  of  rapine. 

"But  enough  has  been  said  to  give  some  Idea  of  Brahmanism,  and  we  are  thus 
better  prepared  to  entertain  the  cpiestion  as  to  the  means  by  which  it  can  be  destroyed, 
and  Christianity,  with  its  truth,  holiness,  brotherhood,  and  peace,  take  its  place. 

"  As  to  the  question  of  means,  I  assume  that,  as  a  Church  of  Christ,  we  are  at 
liberty  to  adopt  any  means  whatever,  in  consistency  with  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel  and 
the  holy  ends  we  have  in  view,  which,  according  to  our  knowledge  as  derived  from 
the  Word  of  God,  interpreted  by  sound  judgment  and  expeiience,  we  believe  best 
calculated  to  accomplish  those  ends.  The  examine  of  the  Apostles  as  recorded  in  the 
Book  of  Acts,  that  missionary  history  of  the  early  Church,  and  in  the  letters  of  the 
great  missionary  St.  Paul,  however  precious  to  us  and  invaluable  as  a  repository  of 
facts  and  principles,  can  never  bind  lis  to  adopt  the  very  same  methods  in  our  day  in 
India,  if  it  were  even  possible  for  us  to  do  so,  as  were  adopted  by  the  Apostles  in  the 
Asia  Minor  or  Europe  of  their  day,  unless  it  can  be  shown  that  the  fields  in  both  cases 
are  so  far  similar  as  to  admit  of  a  similar  mode  of  cultivation  in  order  to  secure  that 
crop  which  Christian  missionaries  of  every  age  desire  and  labour  to  obtain.  St.  Paul 
had  nothing  like  the  heathenism  of  India,  in  its  social  aspects  or  vast  extent,  to  deal 
with.  But  we  shall  be  fellow-labourers  with  him  if  we  understand  his  'ways,' 
'manner  of  life,  and  possess  his  spirit.  Let  us  only,  as  far  as  possible,  endeavour  to 
share  what,  without  irreverence  for  his  inspired  authority,  I  may  venture  to  call  his 
grind  comprehensive  common-sense — his  clear  eye  in  discerning  the  real  plan  of  battle 
and  all  that  was  essential  to  success — his  firm  and  unfaltering  march  to  the  centre  of 
the  enemy's  position,  in  the  best  way  practicable  in  the  given  place  and  time — his 
determination  to  become  all  things  to  all  men,  limited  only,  yet  expanded  also,  by  the 
holy  and  unselfish  aim  of  'gaining  some,'  not  to  himself,  but  to  Christ ;  and,  in  doing 
so,  we  shall  not  miss  the  best  methods  of  Christianising  India.  Bight  men  will  make 
the  right  methods. 

"In  reviewing  the  various  mission  agencies  at  work  in  India,  we  may  at  once  lay 
aside  the  consideration  of  minor  methods — such,  for  example,  as  that  of  orphanages, 
male  and  female  :  for  whate-v  er  blessings  may  be  bestowed  by  them  as  charitable  in- 
stitutions, or  whatever  advantages — and  there  are  many  such — may  be  derived  from 
them  as  furnishing  Christian  teachers  for  male,  and,  above  all,  for  female  schools  ; 
and  colporteurs  or  catechists,  to  aid  missionaries  ;  or  as  providing  wives  for  Christian 
converts,  who  could  neither  seek  nor  obtain  any  alliances  from  among  the  'castes;' 
— nevertheless,  these  institutions,  however  multiplied  and  however  successful,  cannot, 
in  my  opinion,  tell  on  the  ultimate  conversion  of  the  bulk  of  the  Hindoos  proper, 
more  than  so  many  orphans  taken  from  Europe  would  do  if  trained  and  taught  in  the 
same  way.  I  am  not  to  be  understood  as  objecting  to  orphanages,  more  especially 
when  they  are,  as  with  us,  generously  supported  by  the  contributions  of  the  young  at 
home,  and  not  paid  for  out  of  the  general  funds  of  the  Mission.  Yet  I  would  not  have 
you  attach  undue  importance  to  the  baptism  of  orphans  as  telling  upon  Hindooism,  or 
to  weigh  their  number — as,  alas  !  I  have  heard  done  in  Scotland — against  those  con- 
nected with  our  great  educational  institutions,  to  the  disparagement  of  the  latter  as 
compared  with  the  former.  It  seems  to  me  that  it  would  be  just  as  wise  as  if,  in 
seeking  to  convert  the  Jews,  we  imagined  that  the  baptism  of  any  number  of  orphan 
Jews  within  a  charitable  house  of  refuge  would  tell  as  much  on  Judaism  as  the  educa- 
tion of  a  thousand  intelligent  young  Babbis  in  a  Christian  college,  if  such  a  blessing 
were  possible,  in  the  intensely  bigoted  towns  of  Saphet  or  Tiberias. 

"  ~Sov  neetl  I  discuss  here  what  has  been  or  what  may  be  accomplished  by  the  dis- 
semination of  the  Bible  and  an  effective  Christian  literature,  and  other  similar  details 
of  mission  work,  the  excellence  of  which  is  obvious  and  admitted,  but  I  will  confine 


APPENDIX.  471> 

myself  bo  what  fa  ive  be<  a  called  I  be  preaching  and  the  teaching  system^  protesting, 
liowever,  against  this  erroneous,  classification,  and  accepting  it  only  aa  the  best  at 
hand. 

"When  we  speak  of  preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  natives  (if  India,  I  exclude  those 
who  have  received  an  English  education,  tor  as  regards  preaching  to  them  there  can  ho 
do  doubt  or  question.  Nor  by  'preaching  tin  I  mean  the  giving  of  addresses  in  churches 
to  native  congregations,  but  addressing  all  who  will  hear,  whether  in  the  .streets, 
bazaars,  or  anywhere  else.  And  unquestionably  there  are  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
thus  preaching  which  are  not,  I  think,  sufficiently  "weighed  by  friends  of  missions  at 
home.  "We  must,  for  example,  dispel  the  idea  that  an  i  vangi  Lis  b,  wh<  □  addn  ssing 
persons  in  the  streets  of  a  city  in  heathen  India,  is  engaging  in  a  work— except  in 
mere  outward  aspects — like  that  of  an  '  evangelist '  preaching  in  the  si  reets  or  fields 
at  home  to  those  ignorant  of  the  Gospel — although,  in  passing,  I  may  express  my  con- 
viction that  even  at  home  such  efforts  are  more  unavailing  than  is  supposed,  where 
there  has  been  no  previous  instruction  of  some  kind.  Outdoor  preaching  in  India,  as 
it  often  is  at  home,  is  almost  universally  addressed  to  passing  and  ever-changing 
crowds,  not  one  of  whom  possibly  ever  heard  such  an  address  b<  tore,  or  will  hear  evi  n 
this  one  calmly  to  the  end,  or  ever  hear  another.  In  no  case,  moreover,  will  the 
educated  and  influential  classes  listen  to  such  preaching.  Consider,  also,  the  most 
utter  impossibility  of  giving,  in  the  most  favourable  circumstances,  by  those  means, 
anything  like  a  true  idea  of  the  simplest  facts  of  trie  Christian  religion  ;  while  to  treat 
of  its  evidences  is,  of  course,  out  of  the  question.  Should  the  evangelist  adopt 
another  method  by  directly  appealing  to  the  moral  instincts  of  his  hearers,  to  the 
wants  of  their  immortal  nature,  to  their  conscience,  their  sense  of  responsibility,  or 
to  their  eternal  hopes  and  fears,  seeking  thus  to  rouse  the  will  to  action,  where,  we 
ask,  are  all  those  subjective  conditions,  necessary  for  the  reception  of  the  truth,  to  be 
found  in  hearers  saturated  through  their  whole  being  since  childhood  with  all  that 
must  weaken,  pervert,  deaden,  and  almost  annihilate  what  we  assume  must  exist  in 
them  so  as  to  respond  at  once  to  truth  so  revealed  ? 

"  These  difficulties  are  immensely  increased  when  we  learn,  moreover,  that  there 
is  not  a  single  term  which  can  be  used  in  preaching  the  Gospel,  by  the  evangelist  who 
is  most  master  of  the  language  and  can  select  the  choicest  words  anel  nicest  expres- 
sions, but  has  fixed  ami  definite  though  false  ideas  attached  to  it  in  the  familiar 
theological  vocabulary  of  his  audience  :  nor  can  it  be  transposed  by  his  hearer,  with- 
out long  and  patient  efforts,  into  the  totally  opposite  and  Christian  ideas  attached  to 
the  same  term.  We  speak  of  one  God  ;  so  will  he  :  but  what  ideas  have  we  in  com- 
mon of  His  character  and  attributes,  or  even  of  His  personality  and  unity  ?  We  use 
the  words  sin,  salvation,  regeneration,  holiness,  atonement,  incarnation,  and  so  will  he  ; 
but  each  term  represents  to  him  an  old  and  familiar  falsehood  which  he  understands, 
believes,  and  clings  to,  and  which  fills  up  his  whole  eye,  blinding  it  to  the  perception 
of  Gospel  truths  altogether  different  although  expressed  by  the  same  terms.  The 
uneducated  thus  not  unfrequently  confuse  even  the  name  of  our  Saviour,  Yishu 
Khrishla,  with  Ishi  Khista,  a  companion  of  their  god  Khristna  !  If  you  fairly  consider 
such  difficulties  as  these,  even  you  will  also  cease  to  wonder  at  the  almost  barren  re- 
sults from  preaching  alone  to  the  genuine  Hindoo  as  distinct  from  low  caste  or  no  caste — 
and  that  the  most  earnest  men  have  failed  to  make  any  decided  impression  on  the  mass, 
any  more  than  the  rain  or  light  of  heaven  do  on  the  solid  works  of  a  fortress.  One  of 
the  noblest  and  most  devoted  of  men,  Mr.  Bowen,  of  Bombay,  whom  I  heard  thus 
preach,  and  who  has  done  so  for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  informed  me,  in  his  own 
humble,  truthful  way — and  his  case  is  not  singular,  except  for  its  patience  and 
earnestness — that,  as  far  as  he  knew,  he  had  never  made  one  single  convert. 

"  But  while,  in  trying  to  estimate  the  most  likely  means  of  communicating  a  know- 
ledge of  Christianity  to  the  Hindoos,  I  would  have  you  fairly  consider  the  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  preaching  only,  I  would  not  have  you  suppose  that  I  condemn  it  as  use- 
less, even  although  it  has  made  few  converts  among  thinking  Hindoos  apart  from 
the  co-operative  power  of  education.  I  recognize  it  rather  as  among  those  influences 
which  in  very  many  ways  prepare  for  the  brighter  day  of  harvest,  by  prompting  inquiry, 
removing  prejudices,  accustoming  people  to  the  very  terms  of  the  Gospel,  causing  new 
ideas  of  truth  to  enter  their  minds  in  some  form,  however  crude  and  defective,  and  by 
giving  impressions  of  the  moral  worth  and  intellectual  power  of  earnest  and  able  mis- 
sionaries who  have  come  from  afar,  and  who  seek  with  so  much  unselfishness,  patience, 
and  love  to  do  good  to  their  fellow-men.  By  all  these  means  we  must  also  ever  strive 
and  hope  to  gain  immediate  results,  as  some  preachers  have  done,  in  the  conversion  of 


430  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

sinners  towards  God.  Let  us  rejoice  in  believing  that  in  proportion  as  education  of 
every  kind  advances,  it  prepares  a  wider  field  for  the  preacher,  if  the  seed  he  sows  as 
'  the  Word '  is  «o  be  '  understood'  so  as  to  be  received  '  into  the  heart.' 

"It  must,  I  think,  be  admitted  that,  up  to  the  period  at  which  Christian  education 
was  introduced  as  an  essential  element  of  missionary  labour  among  the  Hindoos,  every 
attempt  to  make  any  breach  in  the  old  fortress  had  failed.  A  remarkable  illustration 
of  this  fact  is  frankly  given  by  the  Abbe  Dubois.  He  was  an  able,  accomplished, 
earnest,  and  honest  Roman  Catholic  missionary,  who  had  laboured  for  a  quarter  of  a 
century,  living  among  the  people,  and  endeavouring  to  convert  them.  He  published 
his  volume  in  1822,  and  in  it  gives  the  result  of  his  experience,  summed  up  in  a  single 
sentence — '  It  is  my  decided  opinion  that,  under  existing  circumstances,  there  is  no 
human  possibility  of  converting  the  Hindoos  to  any  sect  of  Christianity.'  He  illustrates 
and  confirms  this  conclusion  by  the  peculiarities  of  the  Hindoo  religion,  and  by  the 
history  of  all  missionary  efforts  down  to  his  own  day,  including  those  of  Xavier  and 
the  Jesuits.  He  also  gives  it  as  his  opinion  that,  '  as  long  as  we  are  unable  to  make  an 
impression  on  the  polished  part  of  the  nation  or  the  heads  of  public  opinion — on  the 
body  of  the  Brahmins,  in  short — there  remain  but  very  faint  hopes  of  propagating 
Christianity  among  the  Hindeos  ;  and  as  long  as  the  only  result  of  our  labours  shall  be, 
as  is  at  present  the  case,  to  bring  into  our  respective  communions  here  and  there  a  few 
desperate  vagrants,  outcasts,  pariahs,  house-keepers,  beggars,  and  other  persons  of  the 
lowest  description,  such  results  cannot  fail  to  be  detrimental  to  the  interests  of  Chris- 
tianity among  a  people  who  in  all  circumstances  are  ruled  by  the  force  of  custom  and 
example,  and  are  in  no  case  allowed  to  judge  for  themselves.'  It  is  no  answer  to  this 
picture  that  it  describes  the  failure  of  Romanism  only;  for  it  holds  equally  true  of  every 
other  effort  made  in  the  same  direction  and  among  the  same  people.  The  Abbe  had 
no  hope  whatever  of  the  difficulty  ever  being  mastered  ;  but  thought  the  people,  for 
their  lies  and  abominations,  were  'lying  under  an  everlasting  anathema.' 

"  It  was  shortly  after  this  time  that  Christian  education,  although  it  had  to  some 
extent  been  adopted  previously  in  Western  India  by  the  Americans,  was  systematically 
and  vigorously  begun  in  Bengal  in  the  Church  of  Scotland  as  the  best  means  of  making 
an  impression  upon  all  castes,  the  highest  as  well  as  the  lowest.  This  educational 
system,  associated  as  it  has  become  with  the  name  of  Scotland,  is  one  of  which  our 
Church  and  country  have  reason  to  be  proud,  and  will  ever  be  connected  with  the 
names  of  Dr.  Inglis  as  having  planned  it,  and  Dr.  Duff  as  having  first  carried  it  out. 
It  is  surely  a  presumption  in  its  favour  that  every  mission  from  Great  Britain  which 
has  to  do  with  the  same  class  of  people,  has  now  adopted,  without  one  exception,  the 
same  method  as  an  essential  part  of  its  operations. 

"Let  me  now  endeavour  to  explain  to  the  members  of  the  Church  what  we  mean 
by  the  education  system,  as  it  is  called,  with  some  of  the  results  at  which  it  aims. 

"First  of  all,  a,  secular  education,  so  termed,  though  in  this  case  inaccurately,  :c 
given  in  our  missionary  institutions  equal  to  that  given  by  any  seminary  in  India.  The 
importance  and  value  of  this  fact  arises  from  another — that  education,  especially  in 
the  knowledge  of  the  English  language  and  its  literature,  is  the  highroad  to  what  is 
all  in  all  in  the  estimation  of  a  Hindoo — Preferment.  The  opening  up  of  lucrative 
situations,  and  of  important  civil  offices  in  the  gift  of  Government,  and  the  passing  a 
University  examination  by  every  applicant  for  them,  are  thus  linked  together.  The 
privilege,  moreover,  of  being  presented  as  a  candidate  for  these  examinations  is  con- 
fined to  those  schools  or  institutions,  missionary  or  others,  which  are  '  affiliated '  to 
the  University  or  Board  of  Examiners  in  each  Presidency  town,  which  can  be  done 
only  when  they  have  proved  their  fitness  to  give  the  required  education,  and  are  will- 
ing to  submit  to  Government  inspection  as  far  as  their  mere  secular  teaching  is  con- 
cerned. It  is  for  this  kind  of  education,  and  for  these  ends  alone,  that  the  Hindoo 
youth  enters  a  mission  school.  I  need  hardly  say  that  he  has  no  desire  to  obtain  by 
so  doing  any  knowledge  of  Christianity ;  his  willingness  to  encounter  which,  arising 
not  from  any  courage — of  which  he  has  little  or  none — but  from  self-confidence  in  his 
ability  to  despise,  if  not  its  arguments,  at  least  its  influence.  When  a  mission  school 
is  preferred  to  a  Government  one,  it  is  probably  owing  to  the  fact  that  lower  fees  are 
charged  in  the  former;  and,  as  I  am  also  disposed  to  think,  from  the  life  and  power  and 
superior  teaching  necessarily  imparted  by  educated  missionaries  when  they  throw 
their  whole  soul  into  their  work,  inspired  by  the  high  and  unselfish  aims  which  they 
have  in  view.  Be  this  as  it  may,  right  missionaries  can,  by  means  of  the  school,  secure 
a  large  and  steady  assemblage,  day  by  day,  of  from  500  to  1,000  pupils,  representing 
the  very  life  of  Hindoo  society,  eager  to  obtain  education. 


APPENDIX.  481 

'While  to  impart  this  education  in  itself  a  boon,  and  an  indirect  means  of  doing 
much  real  good,  yet  by  itself  it  is  obviously  not  that  kind  <>f  good  which  it  is  the  dis- 
tinct function  of  the  Christian  missionary  to  confer.  His  Work  is  to  teach  menasaving 
knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  so  to  reconcile  them  to  their  God.     Hence  instruction 

iu  the  Bible  as  the  record  of  Cod's  will  revealed  to  man  specially  through  Jesus  Christ, 
is  an  essential  part  of  his  work,  and  distinguishes  his  school  from  every  other.  The 
acceptance  on  the  part  of  the  pupil  of  this  direct  Christian  instruction,  accompanied 

by  all  that  can  lie  done  by  the  missionary  to  make  it  find  an  entrance  into  the  pupil's 
heart,  and  to  keep  possession  of  it,  is  a  sine  qua  non  of  his  being  received  into  the 
school,  and  is  taken  by  him  with  his  eyes  open. 

"  Mere  leaching,  however,  whether  secular  or  Christian,  does  not  adequately  express 
■what  is  included  in  the  idea  of  education  as  aimed  at  by  the  intelligent  and  efficient 
missionary.  His  object  is,  by  these  and  all  other  means  in  his  power— by  argument 
and  appeal — by  that  whole  personal  influence  emanating  from  head  and  heart,  fnm 
lip  and  eye — to  educate  the  Hindoo  mind  out  of  all  that  is  weak,  perverted,  false  and 
vain,  into  truth  and  reality  as  embodied  in  Christian  faith  and  life.  To  do  this  involves, 
as  I  have  tried  to  explain,  a  work  requiring  time  and  patience,  the  nicest  handling, 
and  the  greatest  force.  To  quicken  a  conscience  almost  dead ;  to  waken  any  sense  of 
personal  responsibility  almost  annihilated;  to  ^ive  any  strength  to  a  will  weak  and 
powerless  for  all  manly  effort  and  action ;  to  open  the  long-closed  and  unused  spiritual 
eye,  and  train  it  to  discern  the  unseen,  'Him  who  is  invisible;'  to  inspire  with  a  love 
of  trutb,  or  with  a  perception,  however  faint,  of  the  unworthiness  and  vileness  of 
falsehood,  a  soul  which  has  never  felt  the  sense  of  shame  in  lying,  and  seems  almost 
to  have  lost  the  power  of  knowing  what  it  means; — this  is  the  education  which  the 
missionary  gives  as  preparatory  to  and  accompanying  the  reception  of  Christianity. 
He  has  to  penetrate  through  the  drifting  sands  of  centuries  in  order  to  reach  wl  at  he 
believes  lies  deeper  down,  that  humanity  which,  however  weak,  is  capable  of  being 
elevated  as  sure  as  the  Son  of  God  has  become  the  Son  of  Man  !  In  seeking  to  do  this 
there  is  no  part  of  his  work,  the  most  common  or  the  most  secular,  which  cannot  be 
turned  by  the  skilful  workman  to  account.  '  Every  wise-hearted  man  in  whom  the 
Lord  puts  wisdom  and  understanding'  Mill  thus  'know  how  to  work  all  manner  of 
work  for  the  service  of  the  sanctuary.'  While  everything  is  thus  made  subservient 
to  the  highest  end,  most  unquestionably  the  Gospel  itself,  by  the  very  ideas  which  it 
gives,  through  doctrine  and  precept,  history  and  biography — above  all,  through  the 
life,  death,  and  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ — retarding  the  character  of  God  and  man, 
is,  by  its  own  divine  light,  the  most  powerful  means  of  opening  and  educating  the  eye 
which  is  itself  to  see  and  appreciate  this  light.  The  Gospel,  therefore,  must  ever 
accompany,  as  master  and  guide,  every  other  kind  of  instiumentality  employed  in  an 
educational  Christian  mission. 

"Another  object  originally  contemplated  by  these  institutions  was  to  raise  up  a 
native  ministry  from  among  the  converts,  who  should  be  able  to  carry  on  the  work  of 
evangelization  among  their  brethren  as  no  foreigners  or  temporary  residents  in  the 
country  could  possibly  do,  and  thus  ultimately  to  obtain  fiom  among  the  people  them- 
selves that  supply  of  missionaries  which  should  permanently  meet  the  wants  of  the 
country.  The  advantages  of  such  a  class  are  so  obvious  that  I  need  do  little  mo>e 
than  allude  to  the  subject.  When  India  is  Christianised  it  must  be  by  her  own 
people.  We  are  strangers  and  foreigners,  and,  as  far  as  we  can  discover,  must  ever 
be  so.  Nature  decrees,  'Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  but  no  further.'  Immigration 
and  permanent  settlement  are  for  us  impossible.  Our  work  towards  India  must  there- 
fore he  from  without,  and  in  order  to  quicken  and  develop  from  within  her  own  in- 
dividuality in  a  Christian  form.  At  present  we  are  singularly  nd  almost  profoundly 
ignorant  of  the  inner  life  of  the  people  of  India,  almost  as  much  as  if  we  had  visited  a 
different  race  in  a  different  planet.  We  come  into  outward  contact  with  them,  but 
oceans  of  thought,  feeling,  association,  habits,  and  beliefs,  separate  us  mentally, 
socially,  and  spiritually,  until  we  can  meet  in  the  fellowship  of  a  common  Christianity 
as  well  as  of  a  common  citizenship.  It  is  thus  evident  that  we  must  ultimately  rely 
upon  native  evangelists  and  pastors  to  educate  the  masses  of  the  natives  in  the 
Christian  religion,  and  to  form  them  into  a  Christian  Church.  Every  method,  there- 
fore, which  can  be  devised  for  the  raising  up  and  thoroughly  edm  ating  such  men, 
suited  to  meet  the  various  ranks  and  castes  of  Hindoo  and  Mohammedan  society,  the 
most  learned  as  well  as  the  most  ignorant,  should  engage  the  most  earnest  attention 
of  the  Christian  Church.  At  present  we  are  but  feeling  our  way  towards  this  all- 
important  end. 

31 


482  LIFE   OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

"You  will  new  very  naturally  inquire  how  far  our  school  system  has  succeeded, 
after  having  had  a  fair  trial,  in  adding  eon  verts  and  native  evangelists  to  the  Christian 
Church.  The  results  of  Dr.  Duff's  missionary  schools  may  he  taken  as  the  most  favor- 
able example.  He  had  the  honour  not  only  of  beginning  the  system  in  Calcutta,  but 
of  carrying  it  on  for  the  long  period  of  thirty -five  years;  for  although  lie  left  the 
Church  of  Scotland  and  joined  the  Free  Church  in  1S43,  yet  he  continued  his  mission 
in  other  buildings  with  unabated  vigour  and  unwearied  zeal.  He  was  assisted,  more- 
over, by  a  staff  of  missionaries  who,  in  learning  and  ability,  were  worthy  of  their  dis- 
tinguished leader;  so  that  the  system,  it  must  be  confessed,  has  had  the  fairest  possible 
trial,  without  interruption  or  weakness.  Its  aeency,  too,  has  always  been  strong  and 
effective.  The  number  of  its  principal  and  branch  stations  in  Bengal  is  12,  with  51 
Christian  agents,  including  4  ordained  European  missionaries;  an  average  attendance 
of  upwards  of  3,000  scholars,  male  and  female.  Two  ordained  native  evangelists  are 
employed,  and  5  agents  are  engaged  in  vernacular  preaching  in  the  Mofussil,  or  in 
'the  country.'  Now,  the  number  of  converts  since  the  beginning  of  the  mission  until 
the  present  year  has  been  206.  Not  one,  as  far  as  I  can  discover,  is  reported  for  last 
year.  As  to  ordained  missionaries,  three  only  have  been  contributed  by  the  institution 
since  its  commencement.  The  same  general  results  have  been  obtained  from  the  in- 
stitution at  Madras  and  Bombay,  hitherto  conducted  by  as  able,  accomplished,  and 
devoted  missionaries  as  have  laboured  in  India.  The  names  of  the  late  John  Ander- 
son of  Madras,  and  of  the  venerable  and  learned  Dr.  Wilson,  of  Bombay,  whom  God 
has  spared  to  iabour,  will  ever  be  associated  with  the  history  of  missions  in  India. 

"  Looking  only  to  such  results  as  can  be  expressed  by  mere  statistics,  those  I  have 
given  may  possibly  be  recognised  as  proofs  of  failure  by  one  ignorant  of  India,  oi 
comparing  them  with  those  gathered  from  other  fields  of  missionary  labour.  I  might, 
however,  easily  show  the  value  of  those  i-esults,  and  defend  them  from  the  charge  of 
insignificance,  by  showing  the  quality  and  influence  of  the  converts  who  form  the 
native  churches  connected  with  that  mission  and  with  other  mission  schools  in  India, 
and  thus  prove  the  greatness  of  the  victory  by  the  difficulty  of  the  battle,  and  the 
strength  and  importance  of  the  position  which  it  has  thus  secured  with  reference  to 
the  final  conquest  of  the  land  ;  or  I  might  even  compare  the  number  of  those  converts 
with  the  number  of  missionaries  employed,  as  proving  a  success  equal  to  th  it  of  any 
other  mission  in  similar  circumstances.  But  putting  aside  these  and  many  other 
elements  of  a  success  which,  in  my  opinion,  is  unquestionable  and  remarkable,  even 
as  tested  by  statistics,  I  could  most  conscientiously  defend  it  on  a  lower  but  sufficiently 
solid  and  hopeful  ground.  Were  its  work  confined  to  the  walls  of  the  institution,  and 
had  it  as  yet  never  made  a  s'ngle  convert,  would  it,  I  ask,  in  this  case,  however  pain- 
ful and  disappointing  it  might  be  to  the  ardent  and  hopeful  missionary  or  to  the 
Church,  be  unworthy  of  our  continued  confidence  and  unfalteiing  support?  I  can 
anticipate  but  one  reply  by  thee  who  have  at  all  comprehended  the  actual  condition 
of  Hindoo  society,  even  as  I  have  tried  to  describe  it,  and  the  nature  and  difficulty  of 
the  work  to  be  done  before  its  heathenism  can  be  given  up.  and  a  genuine  living 
Christianity  substituted  in  its  place.  For  realise  if  you  can  what  the  effect  must  be, 
as  preparing  the  way  for  Christianity,  of  thousands  of  youth  nearly  every  year  sent 
forth  into  society  to  occupy  positions  of  trust  and  influence  from  all  the  mission 
schools  in  India  ;  not  a  few  of  their  pupils  truly  converted  to  God,  and  all  well 
in  tructed  in  Christianity,  in  its  evidences,  facts,  and  moral  teaching  ;  the  minds  of 
all  considerably  enlightened,  their  knowledge  and  means  of  knowledge  vactly 
increased,  and  their  whole  moral  tone  and  feelings  changed  and  elevated  !  I  am  com- 
pelled to  reiterate  the  idea  that  the  work  thus  dune  by  the  mission  school  is  not  the 
taking  ilown  a  brick  here  or  there  from  the  beleagueied  wall,  but  that  of  sapping  it 
from  below,  until,  like  the  walls  of  Jericho,  and  by  the  same  Almighty  power,  though 
differently  applied,  it  falls  in  one  great  ruin  to  the  giound  ;  while  at  the  same  time  it 
is  preparing  the  ground,  digging  the  foundations,  and  gathering  materials  for  building 
up  a  new  living  temple  to  the  Loid. 

"  In  regard  to  the  rising  up  of  a  native  ministry,  that  too  may  be  pronounced  a 
failure,  if  those  who  have  been  oidained  are  counted  merely  and  not  weighed,  but 
that  the  different  mission  schools  in  India  hove  raised  from  among  their  conveitsa 
most  intelligent,  educated,  and  respected  body  ot"  native  clergy,  cannot  be  denied.  I 
remember  a  caste  native  gentleman  of  wealth  and  education  speaking  of  one  of 
those  clergy,  and  saying  to  me,  'that  is  a  man  whose  acquaintance  you  should,  if  pos- 
sible, make.  He  was  of  my  caste,  and  became  a  Christian  ;  but  he  is  a  learned  and 
thoroughly  sincere  man,    and  people  here  honour  him.'     This  said  much  for  both 


APPENDIX.  483 

Hindoo  and  Christian.  Nor  do  I  think  such  cases  so  rare  as  people  at  home  or  abroad 
are  apt  to  imagine.  It  is,  no  doubt,  greatly  to  lie  desired,  that  we  bad  many  moro 
such  men— hundreds,  or  even  thousands,  instead  of  a  few  dozen  or  so  ;  but  the  diffi- 
culties are  at  present  great,  not  only  in  finding  the  right  kind  of  men,  but,  when  found, 
in  supporting  them  where  as  yet  no  congregations  exist,  and  in  inducing  them  to  be 
the  subordinates  of  foreign  missionaries  with  comparatively  small  .salaries,  when  so 
many  better  paid  and  more  independent  positions  can  be  found  in  other  departments 
of  labour,  bor  while  there  are  many  eases  of  unselfish  and  disinterested  labour  among 
native  pastors,  yet  the  demands  of  others  for  'pay  and  power'  make  the  question  of 
native  pastors  in  towns  embarrassing  at  times  to  the  home  Churches.  But,  in  sp  teof 
those  dilliculties,  good  men  have  been  and  are  being  ordained,  and  we  can  at  present 
see  no  more  likely  source  of  obtaining  them,  for  the  cities  at  least,  than  by  our  mis- 
sionary educational  institutions.  Before  closing  this  part  of  my  subject  and  proceeding 
to  offer  a  few  practical  suggestions  as  to  present  duties  with  reference  to  our  Missions, 
permit  me  to  repeat  a  conviction  which  I  stated  at  our  great  missionary  meeting  at 
Calcutta  as  to  our  keeping  steadily  before  the  mind  of  the  Churches  at  home  and 
abroad  the  vast  importance  of  a  native  Church  being  organized  in  India.  By  a  native 
Church  I  do  not  certainly  mean — what,  in  present  circumstances,  we  thankfully  accept 
— native  Churches  in  ecclesiastical  connection  with  the  different  European  and  Ame- 
rican missions.  It  surely  cannot  be  desired  by  any  intelligent  Christian.  I  might  use 
stronger  language,  and  assert  that  it  ought  not  to  be  tolerated  by  any  reasonable  man 
unless  proved  to  be  unavoidable,  that  our  several  Churches  should  reproduce,  in  order 
to  perpetuate  in  the  new  world  of  a  Christianized  India,  those  forms  and.  symbols 
which  iu  the  old  world  have  become  marks,  not  of  our  union  as  Christians,  but  of  our 
disunion  as  sect?.  We  may  not,  indeed,  be  responsible  for  these  divisions  in  the 
Church,  which  have  come  down  to  us  from  the  past.  We  did  not  make  them,  nor  can 
we  now,  perhaps  unmake  them.  We  find  ourselves  born  into  some  one  of  them,  and 
so  we  accept  of  it,  and  make  the  most  of  it  as  the  best  we  can  get  in  the  whole  cir- 
cumstances in  which  we  are  placed.  But  must  we  establish  these  different  organiza- 
tions in  India?  Is  each  part  to  be  made  to  represent  the  whole  ?  Is  the  grand  army 
to  remain  broken  up  into  separate  divisions,  each  to  recruit  to  its  own  standard,  and 
to  invite  the  Hindoos  to  wear  our  respective  uniforms,  adopt  our  respective  Shib- 
loleths,  learn  to  repeat  our  respective  war  cries,  and  even  make  caste  matks  of  our 
wounds  and  scars,  which  to  us  are  but  the  sad  mementoes  of  old  battles  ?  Or,  to  drop 
all  metaphors,  shall  Christian  converts  in  India  be  necessarily  grouped  and  stereotyped 
into  Episcopal  Churches,  Presbyterian  Churches,  Lutheran  Churches,  Methodist 
Churches,  Baptist  Churches,  or  Independent  Churches,  and  adopt  as  their  respective 
creeds  the  Confession  of  Faith,  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  or  some  other  formula  ap- 
proved of  by  our  forefathers,  and  the  separating  sign  of  some  British  or  American  sect  ? 
Whether  any  Church  seriously  entertains  this  design  I  know  not,  though  I  suspect  it 
of  some,  and  I  feel  assured  that  it  will  be  realised  in  part,  as  conversions  increase  by 
means  of  foreign  missions,  and  be  at  last  perpetuated  unless  it  is  now  carefully  guarded 
against  by  every  opportunity  being  watched  and  taken  advantage  of  to  propagate  a 
different  idea,  and  to  rear  up  an  independent  and  all-inclusive  native  Indian  Church. 
By  such  a  Church  I  mean  one  which  shall  be  organized  and  governed  by  the  natives 
themselves,  as  far  as  possible,  independently  of  us.  We  could  of  course  claim  as 
Christians  and  fellow  subjects,  to  be  recognised  as  brethren  and  to  be  received  among 
its  members,  or,  if  it  should  so  please  both  parties,  serve  among  its  ministers,  and 
rejoice  always  to  be  its  best  friends  and  generous  supporters. 

"In  all  this  we  would  only  have  them  to  do  to  us  as  we  should  feel  bound  to  do  to 
them.  Such  a  Church  might,  as  taught  by  experience,  mould  its  outward  form  of  gov- 
ernment and  worship  according  to  its  inner  wants  and  outward  circumstances,  guided 
by  history  and  by  the  teaching  and  spirit  of  Christianity.  Its  creed — for  no  Christian 
society  can  exist  without  some  known  and  pr  ifessed  beliefs  —  would  include  those 
truths  which  had  been  confessed  by  the  Catholic  Church  of  Christ  since  the  first ;  and, 
as  necessaiy  to  its  very  existence  as  a  Church  it  would  recognise  the  supreme  authority 
of  Jesus  Christ  and  Hi's  apostles.  It  would  also  have,  like  the  whole  Church,  its 
Lord's-day  for  public  worship,  and  the  Sacraments  of  Baptism,  and  the  Lord's  Supper. 
Thus  might  a  new  temple  be  reared  on  the  plains  of  India  unlike  perhaps  any  to  be 
seen  in  our  western  lands,  yet  with  all  our  goodly  stones  built  up  in  its  fabric,  and 
with  all  our  spiritual  worship  within  its  walls  of  the  one  living  and  true  God,  Father, 
Son  and  Holy  Spirit.  A  Church  like  this  would,  from  its  very  nationality,  attract 
many  a  man  who  does  not  wish  to  be  ranked  among  the  adherents  of  Mission  Chinches. 


484  LIFE  OF  NORMAN  MACLEOD. 

It  would  dispose,  also,  of  many  difficulties  inseparable  from  our  position,  whether 
regarding  baptism  or  the  selection  and  support  of  a  native  ministry.  And,  finally,  it 
would  give  ample  scope,  for  many  a  year  to  come,  for  all  the  aid  and  efforts  which  our 
home  Churches  and  Missionaries  could  afford  by  schools  and  colleges,  personal  labour, 
and  also  by  money  contributions,  to  establish,  strengthen,  and  extend  it. 

"  Moreover  it  seems  to  me  that  India  affords  varied  and  remarkable  elements  for 
contributing  many  varied  gifts  and  talents  to  such  a  Church  as  this.  The  simple 
peasant  and  scholarly  pundit,  the  speculative  mystic  or  self-torturing  devotee,  the 
peaceful  South-man  and  the  manly  North-man  ;  the  weak  Hindoo  who  clings  to 
others  of  his  caste  for  strength,  and  the  strong  aborigines  who  love  their  individuality 
and  independence  ; — one  and  all  possess  a  power  which  could  find  its  place  of  rest  and 
blessing  in  the  faith  of  Christ  and  iu  fellowship  with  one  another  through  Him.  The 
incarnate  but  unseen  Christ,  the  Divine  yet  human  brother,  would  dethrone  every 
idol  ;  God's  word  be  substituted  for  the  Puranas  ;  Christian  brotherhood  for  caste  ; 
and  the  peace  of  God,  instead  of  these  and  every  weary  rite  and  empty  ceremony, 
would  satisfy  the  heart.  Such  is  my  ideal,  which  I  hope  and  believe  will  one  day 
become  real  in  India.  The  day,  indeed,  seems  to  be  far  off  when  '  the  Church  of 
India,'  worthy  of  the  country,  shall  occupy  its  place  within  what  may  th'-n  be  the 
Christendom  of  the  world.  A  period  of  chaos  may  intervene  ere  it  is  created  ;  and 
after  that,  how  many  days  full  of  change  and  of  strange  revolutions,  with  th>ir 
'evenings'  and  'morning','  may  succeed,  ere  it  enjoys  a  Sabbath  rest  of  holiness  and 
peace  !  But  yet  that  Church  must  be,  if  India  is  ever  to  become  one,  or  a  nation  in 
any  true  sense  of  the  word.  For  union,  strength,  and  real  progress  can  newer  he  ice- 
forth  in  this  world's  history  either  result  from  or  coalesce  with  Mohammedanism  or 
Hindooism,  far  less  with  the  cold  and  heartless  abstractions  of  an  atheistic  philosophy. 
Hence  English  government,  by  physical  force  and  moral  power,  must,  with  a  firm  and 
unswerving  grasp,  hold  the  broken  fragments  of  the  Indian  races  together,  until  they 
are  united  from  within  by  a  Christianity  into  aliving  organism,  which  can  then,  and  then 
only,  dispense  with  the  force  without.  The  wild  olive  must  be  grafled  into  the  '  root 
and  fatness'  of  the  good  olive-tree  of  the  Church  of  Christ;  and  while  the  living 
union  is  being  formed,  and  until  the  living  sap  begins  to  flow  from  the  root  to  every 
branch,  English  power  must  firmly  bind  and  hold  the  parts  together.  Our  hopes  of 
an  Indian  nation  are  bound  up  with  our  hopes  of  an  Indian  Church  ;  and  it  is  a  high 
privilege  for  us  to  be  able  to  help  on  this  consummation.  The  West  thus  gives  back 
to  the  East  the  riches  which  it  has  from  the  East  received  to  be  returned  again,  I 
doubt  not,  with  interest  to  ourselves. 

"  But  when  shall  there  be  a  resurrection  in  this  great  valley  of  death  ?  When  shall 
th^se  dry  bones  live  !  Lord,  thou  knowest,  with  whom  one  day  is  as  a  thousand 
years,  and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day  !  Let  us  have  faith  and  patience.  There  may 
at  first  be  but  a  noise  and  a  shaking,  and  then  the  bones  of  the  poor  broken-up  and  dis- 
jointed skeletons  of  humanity  may  come  together,  and  after  a  while  sinews  and  flesh 
may  cover  them,  and  yet  no  breath  be  in  them  !  But  these  preparatory  processes  are 
not  in  vain.  A  resurrection-day  of  life  and  power  will  dawn  in  the  fulness  of  time, 
and  the  Lord  of  Life  will  raise  up  prophets,  it  may  be  from  among  the  people  of  India, 
who  will  meekly  and  obediently  prophesy  as  the  Lord  commands  them ;  and  then  the 
glorious  result  will  be  witnessed  from  heaven  and  earth  which  we  have  all  prayed  and 
laboured  and  louged  for  ;  the  Spirit  of  Life  will  come,  and  these  dead  bodies  will  live 
and  stand  on  their  feet  an  exceeding  great  army  !  '  I  beheld,  and  io,  a  great  multi- 
tude, which  no  man  could  number,  of  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people,  and 
tongues,  stood  before  the  Throne,  and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed  with  white  robes,  and 
palms  in  their  hands  ;  and  ciied  with  a  loud  voice  saying,  Salvation  to  our  God  which 
sitteth  upon  the  Throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb.'  'Amen:  Blessing,  and  glory,  and  w;s- 
dom,  and  thanksgiviug,  and  honour,  and  power,  and  might,  be  unto  our  God  for  ever 
and  ever.     Amen.'" 


J 


